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THE 


IRON    COUSIN; 


OR, 


MUTUAL     INFLUENCE 


BY 


MARY    COWDKN    CLARKE. 

o»  — me  oiui.noon  or  RITAKKSPKABB'S  IIKROINBR."  "TUB 

COXCOKDANCK,'1   ETC.,  XTO. 


"  For,  not*  thon,  Cynthb, 
How  Iron  bath  pow'r  to  rivet,  and  to  weld 
Into  itself  Its  kin:  while,  at  the  flint'* 
Appeal,  its  nature,  cold  and  stern,  kindles 
To  brilliancy  and  beat;  its  stubborn  boing,  too, 
Subdn'd — obedient  to  the  magnet's  law. 
80,  from  opposed  strength*,  by  mutual  force, 
Best  dov'ntl  properties  are  born.    By  Love's 
Own  might  of  subtlety,  what's  Rood  and  true, 
Is  brought  to  highest  truth,  and  crown'd  |>crfectioii." 

A'tto  Ptay 


NEW   YORK: 

D.     APPLETON    ANM    ( OMPANY, 

1,  8,  AND  8  BOND  8TKi:i  I 

1882. 


TO 

MK8.   VINCENT    NOVELLO, 

THE   MOTHER, 
V  H  i  >  H  i:     JD8TLT    POTENT     "  INFLUENCE 

UA.8  NEVER  BEEN  EXERTED 

rtirr    POR    THE    TRUEST    ADVANTAOB 
OF     HER     HAPPY     CHILDREN, 

Cjits  Sook  is  33t&iratt&, 

;:;   I>KRP   oit\TiTUDE   AND  FERVENT   AFFECTION, 

DY 
H1!R     D  A  UO  TI  T  K  R, 

THE  AUTHOR. 


THE  IRON  COUSIN. 


CHAPTER    I. 

"  A.  BABY  that  has  got  no  mother,  ma'am,  God  help  it ! " 

The  woman  who  held  the  child,  and  uttered  these  words,  was 
a  homely,  middle-aged  person,  decently  dressed,  so  far  as  an  ex- 
treme cleanness  could  render  tidy  clothes  that  were  in  the  last 
of  darned  decay.  The  infant  she  had  in  her  arms  was 
also  scrupulously  neat,  for  all  its  coarse  mean  wrappings.  The 
face  wore  a  wistful,  deprecating  expression,  as  she  curt- 
and  let  fall  these  words  in  reply  to  a  half-inquiring  look, 
which  she  fancied  she  read  in  the  countenance  of  one  of  the  pass- 
ers-by, a  lady  in  a  rich  silk  pelisse,  carrying  a  thickly  gilt  book 
in  her  hand,  as  she  passed  up  the  street,  glancing  at  the  woman 
and  baby  who  stood  close  in  her  way.  The  woman,  as  she  spoke, 
li.-nl  rvrn  advanced  a  step,  as  if  somewhat  to  bar  the  passage,  and 
claim  attention  to  the  appeal  she  made;  but  the  lady  swept  on 
uiihut'dinjrly,  after  her  own  passing  glance,  as  though  she  had  not 

:  tin-  words  by  which  it  was  responded  to. 
"  I  must  speak  up  louder  and  bolder  next  time,"  muttered 
the  woman.     "  Beggings  a  trade  I  never  learned;  and  it  seems 
it  wants  an  ajipreiitirfsliip,  like  any  other  calling.      But  for  thet', 


6  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

poppet,"  she  added,  leaning  over  the  sleeping  babe,  "  I  must  try 
and  get  the  hard  lesson  off,  though  it's  bad  beginning  at  my  time 
of  life." 

The  wind  moaned  by  in  piercing,  sudden  gusts  from  the 
river,  forming  little  sharp  eddies  in  the  wide  thoroughfare  that 
led  up  from  the  bridge.  A  fierce  current  of  air  drew  round  the 
thinly-clad  woman  and  her  burden,  as  she  stood  shivering  and  de- 
fenceless in  the  open  way — one  of  those  steep,  hilly  streets  that 
abound  in  the  good  old  town  of  Newcastle-upon-Tyne.  Heavy- 
laden  carts  staggered  up  the  ascent,  the  horses  straining  and  tug- 
ging and  laboring  with  stretched  harness  and  quivering  shafts,  as 
they  tacked  sideways  along,  their  iron-shod  hoofs  slipping  and 
striking  sparks  from  beneath  their  shaggy  fetlocks  each  time  they 
vainly  strove  to  plant  a  firm  step ;  great  wains  tottered  top- 
heavy,  swaying  to  and  fro,  as  they  made  their  perilous  descent, 
creaking  and  groaning,  and  leaving  a  broad,  shiny  track  on  one 
side  behind  them,  marking  the  safely-impeding  reluctancy  of  the 
dropped  drag ;  foot-passengers  bent  forward,  breasting  the  cold 
wind  and  the  toil  of  the  up-hill  progress,  ever  and  anon  stopping 
to  whisk  round  and  avoid  the  clouds  of  dust  that  whirled  in  their 
faces,  peppering  their  clothes,  dredging  against  their  cheeks  and 
foreheads,  and  sifting  into  their  eyes.  The  heavy  sails  of  the 
colliers  and  other  craft  lying  moored  in  the  river,  flapped  with 
unwieldy  abruptness :  while  the  little  pennons  that  fluttered  from 
the  mast-heads,  seemed  giddy  with  their  ceaseless,  rapid  motion. 
Straws  were  whirled  into  open  entries,  and  shop-doors  banged  to 
with  startling  suddenness.  There  was  a  black  sullen  look  in  the 
air,  partly  the  effect  of  the  keen,  savage-cutting  wind — partly  the 
effect  of  the  dense  coal-smoke  atmosphere,  perpetually  hovering 
in  a  murky  cloud,  indispersible  even  by  such  a  blast  as  then  blew 
straight  from  the  northeast.  All  was  chill  and  gloomy  ;  even 
the  grocers  and  confectionery  shops  with  which  the  place  abounds 
— for  tea  and  sugar-plums  seem  to  form  the  chief  nutriment  of 
miners,  to  judge  by  the  large  japan  canisters,  and  the  piles  of 
colored  chalk  and  sugar,  by  courtesy  called  sweetmeats,  that  lie 
wedged  and  heaped  in  almost  every  other  shop-window  in  New- 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  7 

castle — could  not  enliven  the  general  dreariness  of  the  aspect  of 
tho  spot  on  that  harsh,  cheerless  day. 

Yet  still  the  woman  lingered  in  the  open  street,  and  still  she 
made  an  occasional  courageous  attempt  to  call  the  attention  of 
the  passers-by  to  the  orphan  charge  she  held  in  her  arms. 

Presently,  a  figure  approached  that  fixed  all  her  attention. 
It  was  a  horseman  ;  and  came  straight  across  the  bridge,  along 
the  narrow  street  that  led  through  the  suburb  of  Gateshead  from 
the  open  country  beyond.  lie  was  dressed  after  the  fashion  of 
a  gentleman — but  unmistakably  a  country  gentleman ;  for  the 
scarlet  coat,  and  white  corduroys  that  he  wore,  looked  like 
worsted  apparel ;  he  was  carefully  booted  and  spurred,  and  bore 
a  heavy  silver  mounted  hunting-whip  of  antiquated  make.  He 
.«•  -fined  a  youngish  man,  and  sat  his  horse  like  one  accustomed  to 
the  saddle  and  to  the  pursuit  of  field  sports.  He  held  his  head 
bent  forward,  with  his  hat  over  his  eyes,  to  avoid  the  dust  and 
driving  wind,  so  that  his  face  was  concealed  as  he  came  onward ; 
but  there  was  something  in  his  general  appearance  that  from  the 
tirst  attracted  the  woman's  notice,  and  kept  it  riveted  upon  him. 
As  he  approached,  she  drew  nearer  to  the  curb-stone,  and  stood 
there  gazing  intently. 

At  almost  the  same  moment  he  had  caught  sight  of  her,  and 
she  had  recognized  him ;  each  exclaiming,  simultaneously, 

••  Martha!" 

••  The  young  'Squire!" 

"  Tell  me,  Martha,  tell  me,"  he  began  impatiently,  but  seemed 
unable  to  proceed ;  only  leaning  from  his  horse,  and  looking 
eagerly  into  the  woman's  face. 

She  shook  her  head,  appearing  as  little  able  as  himself  to 
speak.  At  length  she  said,  "Best  dismount,  Mr.  Harry,  sir ; 
and  then  you  can  step  aside  out  of  the  throng  with  me,  and— 
and — I  can  tfll  you  all  quietly,  gently." 

Hi-  still  kept  looking  wistfully  at  her  in  silence,  but  did  a? 
she  suggested,  mechanically  throwing  himself  off  his  horse,  and 
giving  its  rein  into  the  hand  of  a  lad  who  was  hovering  near  io 
the  hope  of  such  a  chance,  with  charge  to  lead  it  round  to  a  ccr 
tain  inn  ho  narm-d.  \vli>  i •-•  ho  was  staying. 


8  THE    IKON    COUSIN. 

He  was  scarcely  on  the  pavement  beside  her,  before  he 
grasped  the  woman  by  the  arm,  drew  her  a  little  apart  from  the 
crowd  of  passers,  and  said,  hoarsely,  "  Now  tell  me  of  Hetty. 
Where  is  she  ?  Take  me  at  once  to  her." 

"  Be  patient,  Mr.  Harry,  sir  ;  take  courage — bear  up,  sir  ;  I 
have  but  poor  news  to  tell." 

"  I  feared  as  much.  I  knew  she  must  have  suffered — have 
gone  through  terrible  scenes — so  high-hearted,  so  proud  of  spirit 
as  my  poor  Hetty !  so  unused  to  the  world — so  unequal  to  its 
struggles — so  young,  so  inexperienced  !  But  you,  my  good  Mar- 
tha, you  did  not  leave  her ;  you  stayed  by  her — you  helped  her 
through  all  her  troubles, — I  know  you  did,  did  you  not  ?  You 
never  forsook  her  at  the  worst ;  and  now  you  shall  take  her  com- 
fort— you  shall  bring  her  brother  to  her.  Come,  lead  me  where 
she  is.  I'm  prepared  for  a  poor  place ;  but  she  shall  soon  ex- 
change it  for  a  better.  I  have  come  to  fetch  her  home, — home, 
Martha.  We'll  all  set  out  for  the  old  Hall,  as  soon  as  she  can 
bear  the  journey." 

He  had  talked  himself  into  a  hopeful  strain  ;  and  by  the  time 
he  spoke  of  home,  and  a  return  to  it  with  her  whom  he  came  to 
seek,  he  looked  with  an  attempted  cheerful  glance  into  Martha's 
face ;  but  seeing  its  unchanged,  mournful  expression,  he  had  add- 
ed falteringly  the  words,  "  as  soon  as  she  can  bear  the  journey;" 
and  now,  still  farther  added  :  "  for  I  fear  she  is  very  ill — re- 
duced— weak, — perhaps  dangerously  ill.  For  God's  sake  speak, 
Martha  !  Your  manner  makes  me  dread  I  know  not  what !  " 

"  Look  here,  sir  !  "  said  the  poor  woman,  at  a  loss  how  best 
to  break  to  her  young  master  the  fatal  truth  she  had  to  tell  him. 
"  Look  here,  Mr.  Harry,  sir ;  lift  up  the  corner  of  my  shawl,  and 
eee  what  I  have  in  my  arms." 

He  stared  at  her  bewilderedly  for  one  instant ;  then  hastily 
put  back  the  shawl.  A  baby's  face  lay  nestled  beneath ;  ita 
eyes  were  closed ;  its  breathing  quick,  but  regular  ;  its  color  rosy 
and  healthful :  all  showed  it  to  be  in  a  deep,  sweet  sleep. 

"  Miss  Hetty's  child,"  the  woman  said,  softly  and  sadly ; 
then  added,  "  Lord  forgive  me  for  saying  so  !  when  she  had  as 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  9 

good  a  right  to  be  a  mother,  as  the  honestest  woman  and  best 
lady  of  them  all.  Mrs.  Captain  Ireton,  I  should  have  said,  to 
be  sure  ;  but  my  poor  young  mistress  seemed  always  the  same  to 
me ;  a  girl — a  child — the  young  thing  I  had  nursed  from  her 
long-clothes.  I  managed  to  call  her  by  her  right  name,  her  mar- 
ried name,  to  the  folks  here ;  but  seeing  you,  Mr.  Harry,  sir, 
made  '  Miss  Hetty  '  come  quite  natural.  My  darling  child !  My 
sweet  creature  !  My  dear  young  mistress !  " 

The  tears  that  had  been  so  long  restrained,  now  poured  down 
the  cheeks  of  the  faithful  nurse  ;  and  she  burst  into  lamentations 
that  left  no  doubt  of  the  fatal  truth.  The  'Squire  had  till  then 
striven  to  hide  from  himself  the  extent  of  his  fears ;  he  could 
believe  his  sister  ill,  in  want,  starving,  dying, — any  thing  but  ac- 
tually dead ;  now,  the  words  that  fell  from  Martha  in  her  pas- 
sion of  grief,  destroyed  the  last  delusive  hope.  He  understood, 
at  length,  in  its  bare,  naked  horror,  the  fact  that  his  beloved 
Id  tty — his  young  sister — the  companion  of  his  boyhood — the 
joy  of  his  youth — the  pride  of  his  manly  years,  was  past  all 
comfort,  all  help — that  he  had  come  too  late — that  she  was  no 
longer  in  beintr. 

"  It's  too  true,  Mr.  Harry,  sir !  Her  bold,  brave  spirit  bore 
her  up  against  the  old  'Squire's  pitiless  usage  for  a  long  time ;  but 
she  gave,  way  at  last.  When  her  young  husband  fell  sick,  and 
died  suddenly,  her  courage  had  its  first  blow.  Then  came  pover- 
ty ;  and  she^ needing  at  that  time  more  than  ever,  the  comforts  and 
luxuries  she'd  been  used  to  all  her  young  days !  Getting  no  an- 
swer to  that  last  letter  she  wrote  to  old  master,  brought  her  lower 
and  lower,  and  at  length  broke  her  heart.  She  moped  and  pined, 
though  she'd  never  own  how  she  cared  one  bit  for  all  that  had 
conic  about ;  and  when  we  got  poorer  and  poorer,  and  were  oblig- 
ed t'<  leave  the  cottage  out  yonder,  for  a  cheaper  lodging  in  the 
town,  she  made  believe  she  didn't  feel  the  change, — but  she 
did.  I  saw  her  faeo  <ret  whiter  and  thinner,  and  her  poor  c 
get  hollower  and  hollower,  till  at  last  they  were  so  sunk  in  her 
IP 'a«l  that  they  only  looked  large  because  her  cheeks  were  so 
wastnl.  She  never  seemed  herself  after  we  came  to  live  in  that 


10  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

Btifling  hole,  and  I  knew  then  how  it  must  be,  though  I  tried  to 
keep  up  a  cheerful  face  to  her.  I  think  she  had  a  fancy  too,  her- 
self, how  it  was  with  her,  for  she  once  asked  me, — iii  a  voice  aa 
like  her  old  merry  one  as  she  could  make  it,—  -'  Nursey,  d'ye  think 
my  baby  will  ever  be  born  alive  ? '  And  when  I  said  '  Yes,  sure, 
my  own  darling  Miss  Hetty,  and  will  be  a  joy  and  a  comfort  to 
you  yet,  to  make  up  for  all  that's  past  and  gone ;  '  she  only  shook 
her  head,  and  spoke  no  more  for  a  minute  or  two  ;  and  then  she 
said  quite  sudden  like,  '  Well,  if  it  live,  you'll  take  care  of  it, 
and  be  as  good  a  nursey-mother  to  it  as  you  have  always  been 
to  me,  Matty  Pattykin,  won't  you  ? '  And  then  I  knew — for  all 
she  spoke  so  gay  and  careless  in  her  tone,  and  for  all  the  old 
playful  name  she  always  called  me  by, — that  she  felt  she'd  never 
live  to  be  a  mother  to  her  babe  herself.  True  enough !  It  was 
born  in  the  deep,  dark  night, — and  as  the  morning  broke,  my  dar- 
ling Miss  Hetty  died  in  these  very  arms.  I  understood  what  she 
meant,  though  she  couldn't  speak — but  her  look  was  enough — it 
reminded  me  of  the  promise  between  us  about  her  baby.  I  think 
she  made  out  that  I  understood  her,  for  I  could  speak  no  more 
than  herself, — as  her  face  turned  quite  calm,  and  its  own  bright 
happy  look  of  old  times  came  over  it,  and  so  it  remained  till  she 
died ;  and  there  it  lies  still,  so  peaceful,  so  sweet,  and  so  mild,  so 
young  and  so  innocent,  you  might  almost  believe  it  has  a  smile 
upon  it.  I  couldn't  shed  one  tear  then,  though  I  cry  so  now ;  my 
heart  felt  swelled  and  aching,  as  if  it  had  a  heavy  weight  upon  it, 
and  my  head  felt  bursting ;  but  I  went  about  what  I  had  to  do  as 
if  I  was  stupid.  I  smoothed  her  dear  young  limbs,  and  covered 
them  with  her  own  white  dressing-gown,  and  laid  over  her  darling 
face  her  last  cambric  handkerchief — all  the  things  we  had  left  of 
what  I  had  tried  so  hard  to  keep  for  her,  when  one  piece  of  cloth- 
ing after  another  had  to  be  parted  with,  to  get  her  a  little  gruel 
or  tea,  whenever  she  could  be  got  to  take  it — for  she  always  pre- 
tended she  wanted  nothing,  and  was  neither  hungry  nor  thirsty, 
though  I  knew  fast  enough  she  must  be  both.  But  now,  though 
she  would  never  want  sup  nor  bit  more,  her  baby  would ;  and 
there  must  be  some  help  got  somehow  for  it,  poor  lamb !  So  in 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  1  1 

desperation,  yet  all  along  stupefied  and  dull  like, — as  if  I  had  no 
feeling  ever  since,  I  think, — I  took  up  my  darling  Miss  Iletty's 
child  in  my  arms,  and  came  out  this  morning  on  a  wild  errand  to 
lind  hope  and  help.  Pniiscd  be  His  name,  that  sent  it  to  me  in 
you  yourself,  Mr.  Harry,  sir  !  Little  did  I  think  when  I  left  that 
room,  all  silent  and  bare,  with  only  my  poor  darling  stretched 
there,  cold  and  pale,  lying  all  by  herself,  with  no  one  to  watch  by 
her, — not  even  her  faithful  Matty,  who  hoped  never,  never  to 
leave  her  so  long  as  she  was  above  ground, — little  did  I  think  with 
whom  I  should  return  to  it !  " 

And  where  is  it  ?  Take  me  at  once  to  it — to  her  1  "  exclaim- 
ed the  'Squire,  huskily,  as  he  raised  his  face  from  between  his 
hands,  where  he  had  held  it  buried,  while  the  worthy  nurse  poured 
forth  her  sad  history. 

"  It  is  just  by — in  the  nearest  chare ;  this  way,  Mr.  Harry, 
sir." 

"  In  a  chair !  "  muttered  the  'Squire,  half  unconsciously,  as  if  he 
thought  the  poor  woman's  trouble  had  turned  her  head,  to  talk  of 
a  lodging  in  a  chair. 

"Ay,  Mr.  Harry,  sir:  a  chare.  They  call  them  chares  here, 
these  close  alleys,  that  lead  up  from  the  water-side ;  a  dismal  place 
for  our  bright  Miss  Hetty  to  live  in !  A  miserable  place  for  her 
young  body  to  lie  dead  in  ! 

The  nurse  led  on  for  a  little  way,  and  then  turned  from  the 
s]">t,  \sliere  they  had  stood,  into  a  narrow  passage  that  opened  from 
the  street  in  which  they  were.  It  ascended  by  steps,  and  wound 
up  through  the  houses  on  either  side,  a  sort  of  out-of-door  stair- 
Almost  every  step  was  thickly  occupied  with  boots  and 
shoes  of  all  dimensions,  ranged  side  by  side,  evidently  for  sale ; 
for  the  houses  which  flanked  the  steps  had  low-browed,  dinjry 
hliojis,  in  the  windows  of  which  heaps  more  of  the  same  articles 
were  just  discernible  through  the  dusty,  darkened  atmosphere. 
Tin •.-(.;  boots  and  shoes  presented  every  diversity  of  cobbled,  patch. 
ed  and  pit-cod  decrepitude;  every  varied  make  of  hob-nailed,  iron- 
heeled,  list,  leather,  and  wooden ;  there  was  the  child's  ankle-- 
strapped shoe,  the  boy's  tongued  and  thick-soled  school-boot,  n-itb 


12  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

its  lace  of  leather,  and  its  leathern  binding ;  the  youth's  clouted 
brogue ;  the  ploughman's  stout  high-low ;  the  townsman's  "  new- 
footed  calf  Wellington ;  "  women's  clogs  and  pattens  ;  and  wood 
en  shoes  innumerable,  such  as  are  rife  in  French  fishing-towns, — 
clumsy,  rough-hewn  things — some  entirely  of  wood,  some  with 
upper  leathers  nearly  as  inflexible  as  wood,  and  fastenings  of  rude 
metal  clasps.  These  wooden  shoes  were  of  all  sizes,  from  such  a  a 
seemed  fit  only  for  the  stunted  dimensions  of  a  Chinese  lady's  foot, 
but  were  in  reality  intended  for  the  soft,  small,  plump  foot  of  baby- 
hood, up  to  the  full-grown  wagoner's  or  miner's  wear,  looking 
like  moderate-sized  hip  or  slipper  baths. 

Making  his  way  through  all  this  myriad  cordwainery,  though 
little  heeding  its  precise  nature,  the  'Squire,  as  he  followed  the 
nurse  on  her  upward  way,  was  yet  conscious  of  the  suffocating  at- 
mosphere generated  by  all  these  agglomerated  boots  and  shoes, 
and  he  felt  the  close-pent,  overhanging  aspect  of  the  place,  in  op- 
pressive keeping  with  the  effect  upon  his  senses.  As  he  instinc- 
tively looked  up  towards  the  sky,  for  a  glimpse  of  space,  and  a 
breath  of  fresh  air,  he  saw  the  massive  stone  walls  of  the  castle  or 
jail,  frowning  and  beetling  above  the  summit  of  the  steep  winding 
chare ;  and  it  seemed  only  a  crowning  circumstance  in  the  images 
of  confined,  breathless,  hopeless  imprisonment,  that  surrounded 
him  on  all  sides. 

As  they  entered  the  one  of  these  shop-dens,  above  which  was 
the  chamber  they  sought,  there  was  superadded  to  the  other  odours 
of  the  spot,  a  strong  whiff  of  beef-steak  and  onions,  upon  a  steam- 
ing dish  of  which,  the  owner  of  the  dwelling  was  about  to  regale, 
in  company  with  his  wife  and  family ;  and  the  'Squire  saw  the  nurse 
suddenly  stagger,  gasp  and  turn  pale,  as  she  was  about  to  say  a 
few  words,  before  she  passed  on  up  stairs.  She  reeled,  and  would 
have  fallen,  had  not  the  woman  of  the  house  started  forward  to 
her  assistance,  with  feminine  instinct,  first  catching  the  baby  from 
her  arms. 

"  It's  my  opinion,  it's  the  smell  of  the  victuals,  sir,"  said  the 
master  of  the  shop,  turning  to  the  'Squire  in  explanation.  "  To 
the  best  of  my  belief,  she  ain't  touched  solid  food  for  days  ;  nor 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  .  13 

nothing  at  all,  but  what  ray  good  woman  has  forced  upon  her  on 
der  the  pretence  of  a  neighbourly  cup  o'  tea.  She  plied  her  with 
the  bread  and  butter,  making  believe  she  didn't  see  how  bad  she 
wanted  it ;  for  .she  was  high,  and  besides  she  know'd  we  was  poor 
ourselves,  and  so  she  always  put  a  good  face  on  her  own  starving, 
while  she  worked  her  fingers  to  the  bone  to  prevent  her  young 
missus's.  I  beg  pardon,  sir;  but  if  you're  a  friend,  I'm  glad  you've 
come,  for  they're  in  a  sad  strait.  The  poor  young  body  couldn't 
hold  out  no  longer, but  died,  sir;  and  as  for. this  one,  it  speaks 
for  itself,  that  things  must  be  at  a  hard  pass  with  her,  when  the 
smell  of  meat  is  so  scarce  that  it  upsets  her." 

The  'Squire,  in  a  few  words,  explained  who  he  was ;  and  com- 
mending the  faithful  nurse  to  the  best  care  of  the  good  people  of 
the  house,  proceeded  up  stairs,  alone,  to  the  chamber  where  his 
young  sister  lay  dead  in  her  early  prime. 


CHAPTER  II. 

OLD  'Squire  Heathcote,  of  Heathcote  Hall,  was  a  man  remarkable 
for  two  things, — excessive  obstinacy  and  excessive  precision.  A 
dictum  of  his,  once  pronounced,  was  irrevocable,  and  to  be  abided 
by  at  all  events.  If  he  had  by  any  unfortunate  chance  happened 
to  have  said :  "  I'll  be  shot  if  it  isn't,"  relative  to  a  certain  mat- 
ter that  turned  out  contrary  to  what  he  had  asserted,  he  might 
have  been  capable  of  ordering  himself  out  into  the  court-yard, 
with  liis  iramekecpers  drawn  up  in  array  to  shoot  him  on  the  spot. 

His  wife  was,  happily,  the  most  uncontradictious  and  submis- 
sive of  women.  She  had  meekly  married  him,  and  after  meekly 
bearing  him  two  children,  had  meekly  lived  some  few  years,  and 
then — meekly  died. 

As  is  common  with  people  of  his  character,  'Squire  Heathcote 
was  a  man  of  small  mind.  His  obstinacy  and  preciseuess  were 


14  THE    IKON    COUSIN. 

conjoined  with  a  limited  range  of  thoughts  and  sentiments.  He 
was  stubbornly  bigoted,  and  stiff-neckedly  opinionated.  He  had  cer- 
tain fixed  ideas — if  ideas  they  may  be  called — which  were  rathel 
notions ;  vague  in  their  scope,  but  immutable  in  their  decision, 
[I is  faculties  were  not  powerful  but  headstrong ;  his  understanding 
not  forcible  but  pertinacious.  He  had  a  sort  of  tautology  of  mind ; 
his  narrow  sphere  of  intelligence  producing  veriest  repetition  of 
the  same  images.  He  had  his  son  christened  Henry, — which  was 
his  own  name,  and  when  he  had  a  daughter  born  to  him,  he  had 
called  her  Henrietta  from  sheer  lack  of  intellectual  energy,  and 
disinclination  towards  any  fresh  exercise  of  the  imagination.  His 
favourite  oath  was,  "  By  the  Lord  Harry  !  "  and  his  usual  denun- 
ciation, "  Go  to  old  Harry !  "  He  converted  pleasures  into  penal- 
ties, by  the  monotonous  style  of  their  appointed  recurrence.  He 
would  always  have  a  certain  kind  of  party  on  a  certain  date,  a  ball 
on  such  a  day,  a  dinner-party  on  such  another, — with  exactly  the 
same  several  sets  of  guests  invited  to  each. 

He  would  have  considered  it  almost  an  act  of  moral  delin- 
quency to  omit  having  roast  leg  of  mutton  at  his  table  on  a  par- 
ticular day  in  each  week  ;  though  it  sometimes  involved  a  ser- 
vant's galloping  over  to  the  next  town  in  a  pelting  rain — the 
distress  of  a  horse — the  distraction  of  the  butcher,  whose  usual 
supply  of  meat  had  failed — and  the  agitation  and  anxiety  of  his 
meek  wife  lest  his  lordly  will  should  be  inevitably  thwarted.  He 
would  have  deemed  it  a  breach  of  religious  duty  to  have  any 
thing  but  roast  beef  and  plum  pudding  on  Christmas  day ;  ho 
made  it  a  scruple  of  conscience  that  pancakes  should  be  served  on 
Shrove  Tuesday ;  and  would  have  considered  it  little  less  than  a 
crime  not  to  eat  salt  fish  on  Ash  Wednesday. 

He  kept  all  the  clocks  in  the  house  regular  to  a  second  with 
his  own  hand ;  although  he  made  no  use  of  his  time,  or  frittered 
it  away,  as  if  it  were  the  least  valuable  of  his  possessions ;  as 
perhaps  it  was. 

He  was  highly  incensed  if  the  post  did  not  come  in,  and  the 
letter  bag  were  not  placed  on  the  breakfast-table  punctually  to  a 
moment ;  though  he  had  no  correspondence  he  cared  about,  and 


Tin:  IKON  COUSIN.  15 

invariably  put  off  reading  his  newspapers  till  evening.  Thi* 
he  contrived  to  make  another  periodical  pest ;  for,  like  many 
despotic  readers  of  newspapers,  he  always  read  them  aloud.  Not 
satisfied  with  the  amusement  he  derived  from  their  perusal,  he 
insisted  on  making  hearers  of  whatever  luckless  persons  chancea 
to  be  by,  however  otherwise  their  attention  might  be  engaged. 
Ho  liked  to  have  an  audience.  He  chose  to  have  an  interest 
taken  in  his  "extraordinary  growth  of  turnips,"  and  "  strawber- 
ries o*f  prodigious  size."  If  his  wife  were  anxious  to  slip  away 
and  give  some  forgotten  order  to  the  housekeeper,  upon  which 
sho  knew  depended  the  important  question  of  dinner  (and  conse- 
quent peace)  for  the  next  day,  she  must  sit  still  and  listen  to  a 
long  political  debate,  of  which  she  understood  not  one  word;  or 
if  his  young  daughter  were  deep  in  the  calculation  of  knotting 
stitches,  she  must  "lose  count,"  to  mark  the  particulars  of  a 
••  melancholy  accident,"  or  attend  to  the  details  of  "  a  grand 
boxing  match,"  for  neither  of  which  she  cared  one  jot. 

He  turned  luxuries  into  inflictions  by  his  method  of  dispens- 
ing, withholding  or  controlling  them.  He  invested  them  with 
so  many  petty  restrictions,  so  many  stiff  observances,  so  many 
troublesome  punctilios — which  were  by  no  means  to  be  infringed 
— that  people  gave  up  availing  themselves  of  the  indulgences  in 
sheer  despair  at  the  concomitant  annoyances.  Although  no 
reader,  he  prided  himself  on  a  fine  library,  a  choice  collection  of 
that  he  possessed.  It  had  been  the  cherished  acquisition 
nf  a:  ancestor  of  his,  who  had  had  taste  and  judgment  sufficient 
fur  its  selection,  as  well  as  its  enjoyment.  Not  only  as  a  family 
heir-loom  was  it  a  source  of  gratification  to  our  'Squire,  but  as 
affording  him  exercise  for  his  love  of  precision.  lie  regularly 
ordered  new  publications  from  town,  adding  them  carefully  and 
chronologically  to  the  rest.  He  was  very  nice  in  their  biii'liiiir; 
and  would  send  a  book  back  to  London  to  be  rebound,  if  its 
style  were  not  accurately  to  his  fancy.  He  would  spend  whole 
mornings  in  his  library,  arranging  the  volumes;  not  reading 
them.  He  was  very  particular  about  their  matching,  and  rang- 
ing exactly  and  evenly  on  the  shelves.  He  hated  to  see  gups; 


16  TELE    IRON    COUSIN. 

worried  while  one  existed ;  would  search  for  the  missing  tome 
and  if  he  discovered  that  it  had  been  fetched  away  for  perusal, 
would  be  restless  during  its  absence,  and  fidget  about  the  person 
who  happened  to  be  reading  it.  If  it  were  his  meek  wife,  she 
soon  discovered  the  object  of  his  uneasiness,  and  dutifully  put  a 
period  to  it,  by  silently  and  immediately  restoring  the  stray  to 
its  place.  If  it  were  his  light-hearted  daughter,  she  played  with 
his  fidgetiness,  pretended  not  to  see  its  aim,  taking  neither  hint 
nor  innuendo  ;  and  when  she  could  no  longer  feign  ignorance  of 
his  meaning,  she  would  affect  to  be  weary  of  the  book  herself, 
and,  half  yawning,  half  laughing,  carry  it  back  to  the  study,  and 
pop  it  up  on  the  shelf  carelessly  as  might  be. 

As  for  his  son,  having  originally  no  bent  for  literature,  he 
came  to  hate  the  sight  of  books,  as  perpetually  associated  with 
some  objection,  or  admonition,  or  teasing  interposing  of  author 
ity  on  the  part  of  his  father,  and  accordingly  gave  them  up  as  a 
hopeless  pursuit,  and  gave  himself  up  to  the  more  congenial  pro- 
secution of  his  favourite  field  sports.  In  his  personal  conforma- 
tion, he  was  strong  and  athletic.  In  his  mental  constitution  he 
was  somewhat  supine.  In  him  were  modified  the  characteristics 
he  inherited  from  both  parents.  His  mother's  meek  spirit  in 
him  became  mere  passive  acquiescence  with  his  father's  will ; 
while  this  latter's  precision  and  obstinacy  took  the  shape  of 
habitual  compliance  and  dogged  obedience.  He  had  a  rooted 
dislike  to  opposition,  and  was,  both  by  temperature  and  circum- 
stance, mild  and  yielding.  Young  'Squire  Heathcote,  or  Mr. 
Harry,  as  he  was  most  frequently  styled,  was  a  general  favourite 
with  household,  tenantry,  and  neighbourhood. 

Towards  his  son  and  heir  the  formal  old  'Squire  entertained 
a  mixed  feeling.  He  took  a  certain  sort  of  pride  in  him  as  the 
future  representative  of  himself,  the  inheritor  of  his  estate,  his 
family  greatness,  his  county  honours  and  consequence,  his  entire 
possessions  ;  but  he  had  at  the  same  time  a  kind  of  little  jealousy 
of  him,  a  paltry  eagerness  to  display  his  present  authority  over 
him,  a  ceaseless  desire  to  maintain  a  continuance  of  his  pow«»r 
and  a  fretful  besetting  mistrust  of  the  period  when  the  young 
man  would  be  emancipated  from  both. 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  17 

Of  all  living  beings  'Squire  Heathcote  best  loved  his  daughter 
Henrietta,  or  Hetty,  as  she  was  familiarly  called.  After  his 
wife  died,  his  affection  for  the  young  girl  took  a  more  demon- 
strative shape  than  any  he  had  ever  exhibited.  He  would  almost 
brook  something  less  than  implicit  submission  from  her.  He 
tolerated  her  sprightly  insubordination,  and  connived  at  her 
lively  freedoms.  She  would  gaily  disregard  all  indirect  sugges- 
tions of  his  ;  and  if  an  absolute  command  threatened,  she  would 
laugh  it  off.  Her  father  humoured  her  more  than  any  one  in 
the  world  ;  and  to  prevent  this  indulgence  from  interfering  with 
his  law  of  irreversible  decree,  he  evaded  as  much  as  possible 
pronouncing  any  in  her  case,  and  rarely  issued  a  mandate  that 
regarded  her  till  he  was  pretty  sure  it  stood  no  chance  of  being 
disobeyed.  She,  like  most  spoilt  people,  was  not  slow  to  per- 
ceive her  power  over  him ;  and  she  was  both  fond  and  proud  of 
its  exercise ;  but  her  mode  was  ever  so  pleasant  and  sportive, 
that,  far  from  resenting  the  ascendency,  he  but  doted  the  move 
on  his  subducr.  Besides,  there  was  a  kind  of  will  in  submitting 
to  hers ;  he  willed  to  bo  swayed  by  his  pretty  daughter,  his 
favourite  child. 

There  was  only  one  occasion  when  he  had  a  suspicion  that  she 
had  succeeded  in  pursuing  her  own  way  rather  than  his,  to  an 
extent  that  he  would  never  have  permitted,  had  he  known  the 
exact  circumstances  in  time.  There  was  a  Mr.  Morton  Worth- 
ington,  son  and  heir  to  a  neighbouring  country  gentleman,  of  good 
birth  and  ancient  descent,  who  possessed  the  finest  estate  in  tho 
county.  There  existed  a  distant  relationship  between  the  two 
families  of  Worthington  and  Heathcote,  which  the  'Squire  hoped 
to  see  brought  into  still  nearer  alliance  by  a  marriage  between 
Morton  and  his  own  daughter  Henrietta.  But  Mr.  Morton 
Worthington  was  a  young  man  of  reserved  manners,  grave, 
stately,  self-concentrated ;  and  though  he  betrayed  unmistak- 
ilili-  evidence  of  his  being  irresistibly  captivated  by  the  sparkling 
Hetty,  yet  he  never  gave  sufficiently-declared  tokens  of  his  at- 
tachment to  warrant  his  being  looked  upon  as  her  suitor.  Squira 
llcatheotr.  hoping  all  must  eventually  tnke  place  as  he  had  pre 


18  THE    IRON    COSSIN. 

ordained  in  bis  own  mind,  left  things  to  time  ;  but  suddenly,  and 
without  his  being  able  to  account  for  the  abrupt  secession,  Mr, 
Morton  Worthington  left  home,  and  returned  again  in  a  few 
weeks,  accompanied  by  a  bride,  as  opposed  in  every  particular  of 
feature,  person,  and  disposition,  to  the  lively  blooming  Hetty,  as 
could  possibly  be  conceived. 

'Squire  Heathcote  could  never  verify  his  surmise,  but  he  had 
his  own  misgivings  that  this  match  had  been  actually  within  the 
power  of  his  daughter,  and  that  she,  in  her  gay  heedlessness  or 
wilfulness,  had  chosen  to  let  it  escape  her.  He  fancied  that  Mr. 
Morton  Worthington  had  been  surprised  into  an  accidental  avowal 
of  his  feelings,  and  that  Hetty  had  on  the  spot  rejected  him  ;  but 
it  was  then  too  late  to  inquire  into  the  facts,  and  his  pride  would 
not  allow  him  to  own,  even  to  himself,  that  he  was  disappointed. 

Nevertheless  it  rankled  long  within  him,  and  it  was  doubtless 
this  secret  vexation  at  the  defeat  of  his  original  views  for  her  dis- 
posal, which  added  a  sting  to  the  virulence  of  his  anger,  when  he 
discovered  that  at  a  county  ball,  given  by  some  officers  who  were 
quartered  in  the  neighbourhood,  one  of  them  had  dared  to  fall  in 
love  with  his  daughter,  and  intended  to  make  proposals  for  her. 
Hie  ire  knew  no  bounds ;  he  raged,  he  stormed,  he  vowed  the 
rascally  beggarly  scoundrel  should  never  come  near  his  house ; 
that  no  pitiful  half-pay  captain  should  have  his  child ;  that  he 
would  lock  her  up,  to  starve  on  bread  and  water,  if  she  so  much 
as  thought  of  encouraging  the  vagabond,  &c.,  &c. 

Hetty  at  first  smiled  and  coaxed,  and  tried  to  win  her  father 
into  better  humour ;  then  she  pouted,  and  in  youthful  pettishuess 
declared  she  could  not,  and  she  would  not  live  without  the  lover 
of  her  choice,  threatening  to  die  and  leave  her  old  father,  purely 
to  vex  and  shame  him  for  having  been  so  hard  with  her.  But 
soon  she  found  it  was  no  jesting  matter.  The  'Squire  was  seized 
with  one  of  his  obstinate  fits,  and  swore  by  the  Lord  Harry  she 
should  never  have  Captain  Ireton  by  his  consent.  Hetty,  pre- 
suming :>n  her  influence  with  her  father,  and  trusting  that  \vlien 
once  she  was  a  wife,  he  would  not  refuse  his  forgiveness,  in  an 
•vil  hour  resolved  to  forego  this  consent,  and  to  marry  Captain 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  19 

Ircton  without  it.  She  had  no  difficulty  in  persuading  her  at 
tached  nurse  to  accompany  her  in  her  elopement ;  Matty  could 
deny  her  beloved  Miss  Hetty  nothing;  and  accordingly  one  fine 
June  night  they  made  their  escape  from  an  open  window,  hurried 
across  the  old  park,  found  Captain  Ireton  waiting  for  them  with 
a  post-chaise  and  four,  which  soon  conveyed  the  runaway  daugh- 
ter away  from  Heathcote  Hall  for  ever. 

The  'Squire's  wrath  on  the  discovery  was  fearful.  He  tcok  a 
solepm  oath  that  he  would  never  pardon,  never  see  his  daughter 
more.  He  called  his  Maker  to  witness  that  he  would  never  for- 
give any  one  of  his  family  who  should  hold  intercourse  with  her. 
He  menaced,  not  only  with  disinheritance,  but  with  an  eternal  curse, 
his  only  son,  should  he  ever  communicate  with  her  who  had  made 
herself  an  outcast  from  among  them.  Harry  Heathcote — partly 
from  habitual  submission,  partly  from  believing  that  his  sister 
would  ultimately  succeed  in  winning  her  way  back  to  her  old 
place  in  her  father's  heart,  and  knowing  that  her  own  unaided 
influence  had  always  had  more  effect  than  when  seconded  by  the 
interference  of  others,  which  seemed  rather  to  provoke  and  con 
firm  resistance — yielded  to  the  fiat. 

But  months  crept  on,  and  still  her  brother  heard  nothing  of 
Hetty.  Her  name  was  interdicted  at  Heathcote  Hall,  therefore 
he  dared  not  ask  his  father  tidings,  lest  he  should  but  exasperate 
him  more  against  her.  He  knew  that  letters  occasionally  reached 
his  father,  addressed  in  her  handwriting,  but  he  learned  nothing 
of  their  contents,  until  one  fatal  day,  in  a  burst  of  passion  at 
some  neglect  or  omission  of  his  steward's,  the  old  'Squire  had  an 
apoplectic  fit,  which,  bringing  him  to  his  death-bed,  he  had  called 
his  son  to  him,  and  in  an  agony  of  tardily-awakened  remorse,  had 
shown  him  Hetty's  letters,  and  desired  him,  with  as  articulate  an 
injunction  as  his  paralyzed  utterance  would  permit,  to  hasten  in 
search  of  his  sister,  and  bear  her  her  father's  dying  forgiveness. 
This  was  an  expiring  effort  of  natural  feeling  to  assert  its  supre- 
macy over  inveterate  obstinacy — a  struggle  the  old  man  di«l  mil 
long  survive,  for  he  had  scarcely  given  the  charge  to  his  sou  be 
fore  he  breathed  his  last. 


20  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

The  young  'Squire  lost  no  time  in  fulfilling  the  behest.  His 
first  step  was  to  endeavour  to  trace  out  from  her  letters  the  latest 
retreat  of  poor  Hetty,  for  they  bore  evidence  of  her  having  been 
compelled,  from  increasing  distress  and  penury,  frequently  to 
change  it.  He  found  that  the  last-received  letter  bore  the  post- 
mark of  Newcastle-upon-Tyne,  and  that  inside  it  contained  men- 
tion of  her  lodging  being  situated  in  its  vicinity  ;  but  this  was 
vaguely  stated,  as  if  the  writer's  thoughts  were  far  more  intently 
fixed  upon  the  old,  well-loved  home,  of  which  she  raved  in  fond 
imploring  terms,  and  to  which  she  distractedly  besought  leave  to 
return. 

He  had  set  forth  on  horseback,  with  this  slender  clue,  to  seek 
his  sister.  On  reaching  the  neighbourhood  of  the  great  coal-city, 
he  had  been  induced,  by  its  name,  to  try  first  the  Ouse  Burn, 
knowing  his  sister's  predilection  for  rural  quiet,  and  fancying  the 
title  of  this  suburb  indicated  the  kind  of  spot  she  would  proba- 
bly choose  for  her  lodging.  But  he  had  hardly  entered  its  pre- 
cincts before  he  felt  that  the  promise  of  its  name  was  utterly  mis- 
leading. This  was  the  only  remnant  of  whatever  former  beauty 
the  place  might  have  possessed.  The  sole  trace  now  existing  of 
the  burn  or  brook  which  had  originally  streamed  through  it,  was 
a  dirty  mud-ditch,  foul  and  noisome,  trickling  its  sluggish  ooze 
between  rows  of  straggling  low  houses,  or  huts.  The  way  was 
strewn  with  refuse  of  all  sorts ;  iron  hoops,  tub-staves,  broken 
palings,  cinders,  old  shoes  with  gaping  sides — the  upper  leathers 
wrenched  apart,  and  the  soles  curled  up ;  a  bit  of  a  thin  and 
ragged  petticoat ;  a  rusty  pot-lid  bent  nearly  double  ;  a  few  yards 
farther  on,  the  saucepan  itself,  full  of  holes,  and  a  piece  of  a, 
cracked  yellow  delf  plate,  with  a  crinkly  edge.  Quitting  thia 
region  of  squalor,  he  had  proceeded  as  far,  in  the  same  direction, 
as  the  pretty,  secluded,  green  dell  of  Jesmond  Dean.  Here  he 
had  succeeded  in  gaining  something  like  an  indication  of  the  ob- 
ject of  his  pursuit.  He  found  that  a  young  lady  calling  herself 
Mrs.  Ireton,  dressed  in  widow's  weeds,  and  accompanied  by  a 
middle-aged  woman,  had  tenanted  a  couple  of  apartments  in  one 
of  the  neat  cottages  skirting  the  embowered  cleft.  But,  unable 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  2) 

16  pay  even  the  moderate  weekly  sum  demanded  for  rent,  she  had 
left,  very  reluctantly  it  seemed,  both  on  the  part  of  housekeeper 
und  tenant,  for  other  lodgings,  more  within  the  compass  of  her 
scanty  means.  The  good  woman  of  the  house  spoke  kindly  and 
regretfully  of  the  poor  young  widow  lady  and  her  faithful  com- 
panion ;  saying  that  they  were  quiet,  uncomplaining  bodies,  and 
that  the  latter  especially  was  a  helpful,  sonsy,  weel-behaved, 
canny  sort  of  a  person,  who  thought  nothing  too  good  or  too 
choice  for  her  young  mistress,  whilst  she  herself  was  content  with 
any  thing  she  could  get. 

After  this,  the  'Squire  wandered  on  day  after  day,  now  on  the 
prrcat  North  Koad,  now  on  the  Western  Road,  now  on  the  old 
London  Road,  inquiring  at  all  the  cottages,  and  asking  at  all  the 
poorest  houses  that  seemed  in  any  way  likely  to  have  accommo- 
dated lodgers.  Frequently  he  heard  the  boll  of  the  fine  old 
church  of  St.  Nicholas  chime  a  late  evening  hour,  as  he  returned, 
toil-worn  of  body,  and  far  more  weary  of  spirit,  to  his  sleeping- 
quarters  at  the  Inn  in  the  town.  His  horse  seemed  to  wonder 
why  his  master  preferred  the  steep  streets  of  Newcastle,  varied 
only  by  a  monotonous,  slow  perambulation  about  the  outlets 
leading  from  the  town,  to  the  former  free  gallops  along  the  dewy 
pwanl  of  the  park,  or  the  animated  course  after  the  hounds. 
But  the  'Squire  was  too  spiritless  and  sad,  even  to  address  his 
wonted  word  of  sympathy  or  kindness  to  his  horse.  In  silence, 
and  in  growing  hopelessness,  the  brother  pursued  his  search; 
until  one  forenoon,  by  some  caprice  of  intention,  for  which  be 
could  scarce  have  accounted,  had  it  been  questioned,  he  turned 
his  horse's  head  from  the  direction  of  the  London  Road,  whither 
he  had  first  been  proceeding,  and  came  straight  back  through 
Gateshead,  across  the  Tyne  bridge,  into  the  town ;  where,  the 
tii  -t  object  he  encountered,  was  Martha,  with  Hetty's  new-boru 
child  in  her  arms. 


22  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 


CHAPTER  III. 

WHEN  the  nurse  returned  to  her  recollection,  after  the  deep 
swoon  into  which  exhaustion  of  body  and  mind  had  combined  to 
throw  her,  she  would  have  scarcely  been  persuaded  to  remain  and 
recover  herself  fully,  ere  she  sought  her  young  master,  had  she 
not  remembered  that  his  grief  would  probably  prefer  solitude  and 
unwitnessed  vent  in  its  first  burst  of  natural  emotion.  But 
when  a  considerable  space  elapsed,  and  she  heard  no  token  of  his 
leaving  the  chamber,  she  crept  up  to  the  door,  and  tapping  gently, 
went  in. 

She  found  him  sitting  by  the  bedside,  his  head  buried  in  one 
arm,  which  was  resting  upon  the  pillow  that  supported  the  mar- 
ble face  of  his  young  sister, —  that  face  which  he  had  never  be- 
held otherwise  than  blooming  in  health,  and  smiles,  and  circles;- 
heart-ease.  It  was  now  still  and  serene ;  but  it  was  worn  and 
sunken,  and  deeply  lined  with  the  traces  of  premature  age — that 
age  forced  upon  youth  by  a  harsh  acquaintance  with  want,  anxiety, 
•  and  bitter  experiences.  It  was  the  countenance  of  a  young  crea- 
ture under  twenty,  made  to  wear  the  indent  of  cares,  and  faded 
illusions,  and  extinct  hopes,  which  should  only  furrow  the  cheeks 
of  fourscore,  when  it  has  learned  a  higher  and  more  peaceful 
hope,  to  supply  the  fond  bright  visions,  which  are  the  rightful 
portion  of  youth.  It  was  a  face  stricken  suddenly  old,  by  rigor 
and  relentless  will ;  a  girlish  face  sent  to  the  grave  with  the  mark 
of  years  upon  it,  dug  there  by  the  inflexibility  of  a  parent's  re 
eentment. 

The  impress  of  the  cruel  truth  he  read  in  that  sweet  sad  face, 
sank  deeply  and  ineffaceably  into  the  heart  of  the  brother ;  and 
as  the  faithful  nurse  laid  her  hand  upon  his  shoulder,  with  few 
.simple  words  bidding  him  take  comfort  from  the  thought  that  he 
liad  the  child  of  Ii3r  they  looked  upon,  to  protect  and  live  for,  he 
vowed  within  himself  sacredly  and  solemnly  that  his  sister's  in 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  21 

fant  girl  should  never  know  a  harsh  word,  or  unkind  deed,  from 
him,  her  adopted  father.  He  resolved  that  severity  should  never 
inflict  upon  her  the  tortures  it  had  wrought  her  mother ;  and  de- 
termined that  from  whatever  source  unhappiness  might  hereafter 
be  destined  to  reach  her,  it  should  not,  at  all  events,  owe  its  ori- 
gin to  austere  treatment.  He  took  the  babe  gently  in  his  arms. 
while,  with  his  eyes  fixed  upon  that  mournful  dead  face,  he  raised 
the  rosy  living  one  to  his  own,  and  touched  it  with  his  lips,  as  ho 
registered  the  vow  within  his  own  soul. 

The  'Squire  was  a  quiet-mannered,  undemonstrative  man ; 
and,  to  judge  from  his  demeanour,  on  his  return  home,  few  would 
have  guessed  the  deep  sorrow  that  had  been  his  during  that  in- 
terval of  absence.  He  fell  into  his  old  habits  ;  pursued  his  hunt 
ing  and  sporting  with  the  same  apparent  zest  and  relish  as  be* 
fore;  was  the  same  even-tempered,  cheerful-spirited,  simply- 
behaved,  and  simply-spoken  being  as  ever.  He  took  delight  in 
renewing  his  companionship  with  his  old  associates,  and  in  wel- 
coming them  heartily  to  a  house  of  which  he  was  now  sole,  un- 
disputed, and  uncontrolled  master.  His  hospitality  was  genial, 
frank,  and  easy.  He  was  never  better  pleased,  than  after  a  hard 
day's  run,  to  see  assembled  round  his  board  the  sharers  of  his 
toils  and  his  glories  in  the  field.  Like  most  of  his  race,  he  was  a 
stanch  devotee  to  the  pleasures  of  the  table.  He  ate  with  the 
proverbial  appetite  of  a  hunter ;  and  drank  with  proportionate 
vigour  "  a  cup  of  ale,"  "  a  cool  tankard,"  <:  a  draught  of  good  old 
October,"  "  a  bumper  of  claret,"  or  "  a  tumbler  of  rich,  warm, 
fruity  wine,  nicely  mulled  and  spiced,  just  the  last  thing  to  send 
us  all  snug  and  comfortable  to  bed,"  were  among  the  tempting 
titles  by  which  the  'Squire  was  never  at  a  loss  to  press  upon  his 
guests  and  himself  a  seasonable  glass.  The  complacency  with 
which  they  would  quaff  huge  goblets  of  foaming  March  beer,  as 
accompaniments  to  vast  slices  of  cold  beef,  for  breakfast,  on  a 
flhiirjt  i'ro>ty  inoruinjr,  at  dullest  and  earliest  day-dawn,  was  some- 
thing wonderfully  invigorating.  The  boisterous  alacrity  with 
winch  they  sat  down  to  table,  and  fell  to  at  the  fish,  flesh,  and 
fowl,  pic  and  pasty,  joints  of  roast  and  boiled,  with  high-heapod 


24  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

piles  of  smoking  vegetables,  flanked  by  port  and  sherry,  strong 
ale,  small  beer,  and  crowning  bowls  of  punch,  proclaimed  their 
giant  capacities  for  the  enjoyment  of  the  good  cheer,  with  a  force 
that  would  have  inspired  sympathetic  relish  in  one  who  had  just 
dined. 

The  only  period  in  the  twenty-four  hours  during  which  the 
'Squire's  even  temper  was  ever  known  to  discover  something  of  an 
abated  patience,  was  the  expectant  half-hour  that  precedes  the 
serving  of  dinner.  He  would  walk  about  his  large  drawing-room, 
half  restless,  half  listless,  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  could  settle 
to  nothing,  and  knew  not  what  to  do  with  himself.  He  would 
lounge  in  the  deep  window-seat,  drumming  his  fingers  against  the 
panes  and  looking  vacantly  out  across  the  park,  come  back  to  the 
hearth  rug,  stand  with  his  legs  wide-stretched,  and  his  back  to- 
wards the  fire,  with  balancing  toes  and  heels,  and  upturned  coat- 
tails,  bite  his  nails,  play  with  the  bell-pull,  stir  the  fire,  or  twirl 
the  old-fashioned  India  screen  round  and  round  between  his  finger 
and  thumb,  then  fling  himself  into  an  arm-chair,  with  a  yawn  like 
one  of  his  own  hounds  gaping. 

Once,  in  his  ruffled  abstraction,  he  chanced  to  ring  the  bell, 
with  some  scarce-formed  intention  of  desiring  them  to  see  if  dinner 
could  not  be  hurried,  or  if  the  clocks  were  not  slow,  or  if  the  cook 
had  not  fallen  asleep,  when,  instead  of  the  expected  servant  who 
usually  answered  the  summons,  in  walked  Matty  with  her  little 
charge  in  her  armK. 

The  'Squire,  with  a  bachelor's  instinctive  diffidence  of  his 
powers  as  a  nurse,  had  hitherto  seen  but  little  of  his  baby  niece. 
He  shared  the  feeling  of  most  unmarried  men  with  regard  to  chil- 
dren of  that  age.  He  fancied  its  neck  looked  insecure,  and  as  if 
its  head  would  roll  off,  were  he  to  attempt  to  dandle  it.  He  had 
a  momentary  dread  of  its  slipping  out  of  his  arms,  and  entertain- 
ed a  secret  perpetual  fear  that  at  an  unexpected  instant  it  might 
begin  to  scream.  He  had,  therefore,  appointed  a  set  of  airy  apart- 
ments, rather  remote  from  his  own  than  otherwise,  as  its  nursery, 
installing  Martha  as  head-nurse,  and  investing  her  with  full  pow- 
er to  order  any  and  everything  needful  for  the  accommodation 


r-u:  IRON  COUSIN.  25 

of  baby  Kate ;  but,  contenting  himself  with  these  provisions  for 
her  welfare,  he  had  uuietly  made  up  his  mind  to  put  off  till  a  more 
seasonable  opportunity  any  personal  communication  with  herself 
But  nurse  Matty  did  not  entirely  approve  of  such  an  arrange- 
ment Although  it  left  all  things  to  her  judgment  and  experience, 
and  although  it  involved  no  neglect  of  baby's  essential  advantage, 
yet  it  betokened  a  default  of  interest  in  the  little  one's  growth 
tnd  appearance,  and  increase  of  intelligence,  that  could  not  be  re- 
conciled with  what  a  doting  nurse  conceived  to  be  its  due.  She 
wanted  its  uncle  to  see  how  well  it  throve ;  to  see  its  pretty  ways ; 
to  be  charmed  by  its  winning  innocence;  to  learn  to  love  it,  and 
prize  it,  and  fondle  it,  as  so  perfect  a  darling  deserved.  And  to 
gay  truth,  it  was  a  lovely  little  creature,  very  beautiful  in  shape, 
in  face  and  in  movement.  Its  well-rounded,  flexible  limbs ;  its 
regular  features,  dimpled  cheeks,  and  waxen  complexion;  its 
bright,  curly  hair;  with  a  sprightly,  alert  grace  in  its  every  look 
and  gesture,  denoted  that  a  few  months  had  insensibly  changed  it 
from  new-born  helplessness  and  passiveness  into  the  individuality 
and  attractiveness  of  an  interesting  child. 

It-  appearance,  bome  by  Matty,  was  the  signal  for  a  general 
view-halloo  from  the  assembled  sportsmen,  loud,  sharp,  and  ring- 
ing enough  to  have  startled  an  ordinary  child  into  a  roar  of  dis- 
may: but  baby  Kate  crowed  and  danced,  and  leaped  in  the  nurse's 
arms,  as  though  she  enjoyed  the  noise  and  delighted  in  the  bril- 
liant rod  coats  tliat  surrounded  her.  The  shout  of  welcome  waa 
nepcated  again  and  airain,  while  the  gentlemen  gathered  about  the 
prcttv  child,  asking  laughing  questions  about  her  of  their  host, 
and  each  making  advances  to  take  her  from  the  nurse. 

"Gently,  ir-'iitly.  gentlemen,"  said  the  latter;  "you'll  fright- 
en her,  inayhaj.s,  if  you  crowd  round  her  so,  and  take  her  suddenly 
away  from  me  she's  used  to." 

But  the  little  line  seemed  nowise  alarmed;  only  huL"_pm;r  rath- 
ur  closer  t<>  Matty,  while  she  continued  to  eye  the  scarlet-coaled 
huntsmen  into  smiles  of  evident  approval. 

k>  Why.  where  in  the  name  of  all  that's  dainty,  did  yr.u  pickup 
this  bri-rht-eved  chick,  'Squire?  Whcrcdid  you  find  her?  Where 


26  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

have  you  hidden  her  all  this  time  ?  How  comes  it  that  weVa 
never  heard  of  this  pretty  moppet  of  yours  ?  For  I  suppose  sha 
is  yours,  you  sly  dog  you,"  said  one  of  them. 

"  She's  mine, — my  niece ;  my  sister  Hetty's  child, — mine  now,'' 
said  the  'Squire,  in  his  quiet  way. 

But  there  was  that  in  his  tone,  which  made  the  loud  voices 
round  him  hush  upon  the  instant,  and  there  was  a  momentary 
pause  of  respect  and  sympathy  throughout  the  room. 

Presently  the  former  speaker  resumed :  "  By  Jove,  she's  a 
beauty  !  It's  a  sin  never  to  have  let  us  see  her  before  !  What  a 
pair  of  eyes  she  has  !  What  execution  they'll  do  by  and  by, 
eh?" 

He  would  have  pinched  the  child's  cheek,  as  he  concluded,  but 
she  drew  away  from  the  approaching  finger  and  thumb,  with  a  lit- 
tle air,  as  if  disdaining  the  familiarity. 

The  gentleman  laughed,  and  turned  on  his  heel,  saying,  "  Coy 
already,  by  Jove !  " 

There  was  a  spice  of  mortification  in  his  tone,  but  it  wore  off, 
and  his  laugh  became  more  genuine  as  he  observed  that  another 
gentleman,  who  stood  next  him,  and  attempted  to  take  hold  of  the 
plump  little  baby  hand,  was  repulsed  in  a  similar  manner.  Sev- 
eral of  the  huntsmen  now,  in  succession,  trying  to  establish  a 
farther  intimacy  between  themselves  and  the  child,  were  treated 
in  the  same  style ;  and  they  were  mightily  amused  to  see  how 
steadily  she  thus  kept  them  all  at  a  distance,  although  she  pre- 
served her  smiling  looks  of  approbation  and  admiration,  which 
were  clearly  directed  to  their  bright-coloured  dresses,  not  to 
themselves. 

"  Try  you,  'Squire  I "  at  length  one  of  them  exclaimed.  "  See 
if  you  have  better  luck  than  we !  Try  whether  she'll  come  to 
you ! " 

The  'Squire,  advancing  with  a  sort  of  shy  smile,  and  hesita- 
tingly confident  manner,  held  out  his  arms  towards  her,  saying, 
"  Will  ye  come  to  your  uncle,  Katey  ?  " 

The  bright-eyed  child  looked  wistfully  into  his  face  for  a  mo- 
ment ;  then  leaned  forward  to  be  taken. 


THE    IRON    CCOSIN.  27 

The  'Squire  grasped  her  to  him  in  silence,  sat  down  upon  the 
nearest  chair,  nestled  her  head  against  his  breast,  and  pressed  his 
lijis  upon  her  hair  with  closed  eyes  and  quivering  mouth. 

After  that  day,  little  Kate  Ireton  was  regularly  brought  down 
during  the  half-hour  before  dinner,  to  visit  her  uncle  and  his  guests. 
fr  was  not  only  for  the  sake  of  beguiling  that  wearisome  interval 
by  her  presence,  that  she  was  appointed  to  make  her  appearance 
then,  instead  of  the  more  usual  period  of  dessert,  but  it  was  from 
some  instinct  that  her  pure  bright  innocence  better  assorted  with 
the  former  calm  and  temperate  time,  than  with  the  heated  rinous 
atmosphere  of  feasting,  and  lights,  and  uproarious  conviviality  that 
followed  dinner,  which  caused  the  'Squire  to  have  his  little  niece 
brought  to  him  previously. 

She  became  a  general  favourite  with  the  boisterous  but  good- 
hearted  country  gentlemen  who  formed  the  'Squire's  usual  com- 
pany. They  admired  the  beautiful  child,  and  played  with  her, 
as  they  would  have  done  with  a  toy.  They  were  always  highly 
amused  with  the  little  airs  of  consequence  she  gave  herself;  the 
wayward  dignity,  the  disdainful  caprices,  the  pettishnesses,  the 
scorns,  the  pouting  angers,  the  smiling  snatches,  the  frowning 
flings,  authoritative  nods  and  head-tossings,  were  alternately 
curious  and  entertaining.  She  was  most  frequently  placed  on  a 
table  in  the  midst  of  them,  with  her  uncle's  arm  passed  round 
her  ;  and  here  she  would  sit,  as  on  a  throne,  dispensing  petulant 
favours  and  whimsical  displeasures.  She  would  throw  flowers  at 
one,  push  away  another,  nod  at  a  third,  frown  at  a  fourth,  make 
a  dart  at  the  hair  of  a  fifth,  and  smack  the  cheek  of  a  sixth,  when 
it  approached  too  near  to  her  little  ladyship's,  in  an  attempt  to 
gain  a  kiss.  This  was  a  complaisance  she  never  accorded.  She 
would  never  give  a  kiss  to  any  one  but  her  uncle.  If  by  strata- 
gem or  superior  strength  one  were  snatched  from  her,  she  vio- 
lently resented  it ;  her  little  hand  clenched,  her  bit  of  a  mouth 
contracted,  and  her  eye  flashed  haughtily  and  wrathfully;  and 
when  this  was  received  with  peals  of  laughter,  she  only  looked  the 
more  gravely  angry. 

Sometimes,  when  she  was  in  high  good  humour,  she  would 


28  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

sign  to  be  seated  on  her  uncle's  knee — the  only  knee  she  ever 
consented  to  occupy — and  would  place  her  little  white,  fat,  spread 
hand,  palm  downwards,  on  the  table.  This  they  knew  was  a  sig- 
nal for  a  bout  at  a  childish  game — a  favourite  pastime  of  hers — 
and  it  was  pretty  to  see  all  those  giant-grown  hands  clasping  one 
after  the  other,  a  mounting  heap,  over  the  baby  one  which  they 
lightly  buried  beneath  them  ;  and  then  to  see  the  little  one  steal 
out,  whip  smartly  up,  and  triumphantly  place  itself  on  the  top 
of  the  mound  of  hands,  then  gradually  become  whelmed  and  lost 
among  the  ever-rising  tide  of  great  palms,  till  it  would  shyly  dart 
out,  before  its  time,  and  unfairly  striving  for  supremacy  against 
all  order,  would  bring  on  the  final  scramble  of  dashing,  pawing, 
foining,  intermingling  hands,  that  caused  the  crowning  laugh  of 
excitement  and  glee  which  crowned  the  whole. 

She  was  made  much  of,  and  doted  on  by  them  all ;  a  perfect 
child-queen,  surrounded  by  grown  subjects,  each  one  devoted  to 
her  will.  She  ruled  with  despotic  sway  ;  her  humours  their  sole 
guide.  They  vied  with  each  other  who  should  most  pet  and  in- 
dulge her.  The  one  who  was  oftenest  the  object  of  her  ill-usage 
deemed  himself  best  distinguished. 

"  I  never  met  with  such  a  spirited  little  devil  in  the  whole 
course  of  my  life  !  "  exclaimed  one  of  the  gentlemen  enthusiasti- 
cally, as  he  held  his  handkerchief  to  his  lip,  which  had  just  been 
scratched,  in  a  struggle  for  a  caress  he  had  perseveringly  teased 
to  obtain.  "  Confound  me  if  I  ever  did  ! — never  !  She's  worth 
her  weight  in  gold,  that  she  is,  the  delicious  little  termagant !  " 

Praised  on  all  hands,  yielded  to  by  every  one,  ministered  to 
by  the  servants,  cherished  by  her  uncle,  idolized  by  her  nurse, 
she  was  the  centre  of  attention  and  deference  from  all  around  her. 
It  is  dangerous  for  a  child  to  be  the  object  of  exclusive  care  and 
fondness  to  one  person ;  but  to  be  that  of  several  grown  persons 
is  almost  infallibly  detrimental.  The  little  creature  gains  an  un- 
due notion  of  its  own  consequence ;  it  learns  to  consider  itself 
and  its  welfare,  its  wants  and  its  wishes,  of  paramount  impor- 
tance ;  it  insensibly  becomes  wilful  and  dictatorial — well  if  not 
selfish  and  exacting. 


THE    IRON    COT-SIN  29 

Kate  Ireton,  before  she  could  speak,  learned  bow  to  enforce 
obedience  and  became  accustomed  to  see  it  follow  her  commands  ; 
!>eforc  she  could  walk,  gained  the  knowledge  that  a  stamp  of  her 
foot  carried  authority  with  it.  and  that  her  every  step  was  wor- 
shipped; before  she  mastered  her  letters,  could  read  in  the  faces 
of  all  around  her  that  she  had'tbc  power  of  controlling  their  wills. 
and  of  making  them  subservient  to  her  own.  Hazardous  convic- 
tions for  a  little  girl  scarce  beyond  babyhood  to  have  acquired  , 
They  rendered  her  not  exactly  domineering,  but  something  ex- 
tremely akin  to  it ;  not  precisely  imperious,  but  very  nearly  so ; 
neither  hard  nor  unfeeling,  but  simply  inraindful  of  others.  She 
habituated  to  behold  herself  the  sole  consideration  to  those 
about  her,  that  she  insensibly  learned  to  look  upon  herself  in  the 
same  light  as  the  principal  person  to  be  considered.  She  never 
intentionally  wounded  them,  or  hurt  their  self-love,  or  demanded 
unconscionably  of  them  ;  she  was  merely  heedless,  disregardful, 
minuting  of  themselves — their  feelings,  their  condition  of  mind 
or  body.  She  would  neither  have  mortified  nor  have  over-fatigued 
nit  willingly,  by  any  undue  or  excessive  service  required 
of  them  ;  but  she  often  thoughtlessly  risked  doing  both,  by  the 
implicit  way  in  which  fealty  was  tendered  on  their  part,  and  ac- 
cepted on  hers. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Tin:  park  and  demesnes  of  Heathcote  Hall  were  not  extensive, 
but  were  very  beautiful.  The  ground  was  broken  and  varied ; 
there  were  oak  and  beech  coppices,  where  the  birds  sang  and 
built,  undisturbed  ;  hawthorn  brakes,  in  which  trout  streams 
•pvklftd  ;  and  fern  covers,  amid  which  pheasants  lurked,  and 
where  rabbits  might  h«  seen  popping  forth  from  their  burr 
eventide,  or  scampering  and  bundling  back  to  them,  on  the  least 
sound  of  approach. 


30  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

It  was  a  favourite  recreation  of  little  Kate  Ireton's,  to  maka 
her  nurse  take  her  out  in  the  park,  that  they  might  wander  the 
live-long  day  among  its  most  leafy  nooks,  and  explore  its  deepest 
embowered  recesses. 

When  the  child  first  learned  to  use  its  feet,  Matty  would  try 
and  induce  her  to  walk  upon  the  'soft  greensward,  by  her  side. 
But  the  little  one  soon  discovered  that  walking  was  more  tiring 
than  being  borne  in  Matty's  arms ;  accordingly  at  every  ten 
paces  she  would  stop,  saying,  :i  I  want  to  be  carried ;  take  me 
up,  Nursey ! " 

If  Nursey  just  suggested  that  "  walking  was  so  pretty  ;  and 
that  Katey  had  better  walk  on  a  little  way,"  Kaicy  would  retort 
flatly  that  "walking  was  ugly;  that  she  did'nt  like  walking; 
and  that  she  wouldn't  walk."  Whereupon  Matty  might  perhaps 
go  so  far  as  to  hint  that  she  "  had  a  bone  in  her  arm ;  that  poor 
Nursey  was  tired ;  oh,  so  tired ! "  Then  Katey  would  rejoin, 
clinging  round  Matty's  skirts,  "  And  I'm  so  tired  ;  oh,  so  tired  ! 
Do  take  me  up,  Nursey !  "  This  plea,  and  the  coaxing,  implor- 
ing emphasis  on  the  "  do,"  always  carried  the  point;  and  Matty 
would  go  on  till  she  was  ready  to  drop  before  she  ventured  to  set 
her  burden  down  again. 

Once  the  good  'Squire  chanced  to  meet  them  in  one  of  their 
rambles ;  and  observing  how  heated  and  wearied  the  nurse 
looked,  he  said,  "  Katey  grows  too  big  to  be  carried  now ;  you 
should  let  her  walk,  Martha.  It  will  do  her  good." 

"  I  don't  like  walking,"  said  Katey.  "  And  my  Nursey  likes 
to  carry  me,  don't  ye,  Nursey?" 

"  That  I  do,  darling,  for  a  bit ;  but  sometimes  my  old  bones 
ache  sooner  than  I'd  have  'em.  More  shame  for  'em,  when  you 
want  to  be  carried,  my  own  ducky  !  " 

The  'Squire  took  his  little  niece  in  his  arms,  saying,  as  he 
did  so,  "  Here,  I'll  carry  Katey  for  you  !  She  grows  such  a  fine, 
Btout  lass  now,  that,  bless  me,  she's  no  slight  weight." 

The  next  morning,  when  Matty  and  her  charge  were  about  to 
set  forth  for  their  morning  stroll,  they  found  a  little  pony  brought 
round  to  the  Hall  door,  with  Ben  Dimble,  one  of  the  lads  who 
belpcd  in  the  stables,  standing  beside  it. 


THE    IKON    COUSIN.  31 

"  Master  said  as  bow  Shetland  Bobby  was  to  be  for  young 
Missy's  riding,  and  as  how  I  was  to  tend  her,  and  sec  as  she 
didn't  fall  off ;  and  teach  her  to  keep  on,  and  walk  by  her  side 
till  she  knowed  how  to  sit  him  of  herself."  Ben  uttered  this 
speech  all  in  a  breath,  and  with  a  grin  of  intense  delight  at  being 
promoted  to  the  office  of  Miss  Kate's  master  of  the  horse. 

For  some  time  the  pony  occasioned  a  considerable  relief  to 
the  tax  upon  Matty's  strength ;  but  after  a  while  Kate  found  out 
that  the  rambles  might  be  extended  by  the  aid  of  Shetland 
Bobby's  legs.  She  took  a  fancy  to  seeing  new  places,  and  to 
going  farther  and  farther  without  noticing  that  these  long  walks 
caused  nurse  involuntarily  to  pant  and  loiter  behind,  unable  to 
keep  up  with  the  pace  of  the  pony  and  groom. 

But  happily,  chance  brought  about  a  resource  that  not  only 
produced  an  extra  pleasure  to  Matty's  young  charge,  but  afforded 
herself  an  opportunity  for  rest  which  she  would  never  else  have 
liked  to  ask  or  take. 

In  one  of  the  pony  rides  the  party  had  gone  beyond  the  park 
and  precincts  of  Heathcote  Hall,  and  had  entered  those  of  the 
adjoining  estate,  Worthington  Court. 

It  was  a  fine  old  place — the  finest  in  the  county — but  it  was 
now  untenanted  ;  its  present  owner  being  abroad,  living  frugally, 
in  order  that  he  might  repair  the  extravagances  committed  by 
his  predecessor.  The  old  mansion  had  a  desolate  air ;  the  shut- 
ters closed,  the  terraces  and  gardens  overgrown  with  weeds,  not 
a  living  creature  to  be  seen  save  a  large  house-dog  and  the  old 
man  and  woman  in  charge. 

The  child  seemed  much  struck  and  interested  with  the  spot ; 
tnd  Matty,  lifting  her  out  of  the  saddle,  bade  Ben  lead  Shetland 
Bobby  into  the  shade,  while  she  took  her  young  mistress  into  one 
of  the  cool  rooms,  to  eat  the  lunch  she  had  brought  with  them 
for  her.  While  little  Kate  sat  enjoying  the  fruit  and  bread,  she 
a.«kcd  all  kinds  of  questions  about  the  curious  old  house,  and 
about  the  people  who  formerly  lived  in  it,  all  of  which  her  nurso 
•eemcd  to  be  perfectly  acquainted  with. 

"  Ye.s,  many  and  niany's  the  time  I've  been  here  before,  dar- 


82  THE  IRON  cousm. 

ling,"  said  Matty,  with  a  sigh,  as  she  looked  around  the  roam  in 
which  they  were.  "  This  was  old  Madam  "Worthington's  morning* 
parlour,  as  it  was  called ;  and  here  it  was  that  she  used  to  sit, 
when  my  own  darling  Miss  Hetty  came  to  visit  her  attended  by 
me.  The  old  'Squire  was  mighty  careful  that  his  daughter  should 
come  over  often  to  pay  her  respects  to  Madam  Worthington ;  but 
I  knew  fast  enough  who  it  was  that  he  was  anxious  she  should 
see,  and  that  should  see  her."  And  Matty  nodded  knowingly, 
speaking  aloud,  but  as  if  to  herself. 

"  And  tell  me  about  that  curious  black  cabinet  over  there,  Nur- 
Eey!     Do  you  Igiow  what's  in  it?     I  should  like  to  peep-!     Lift 


me  up 


"  It's  locked,  my  darling !  "  answered  Matty,  after  trying  the 
door,  in  habittfal  compliance  with  an  expressed  wish  of  her 
charge's.  "  I  knew  it  must  be  locked ;  it  always  used  to  be  kept 
locked  in  the  old  times." 

"  And  look  at  those  odd  pictures,  worked  with  stitches  !  A 
dickey-bird,  with  a  couple  of  cherries  hanging  from  his  crooked 
beak.  And  those  letters  all  of  a  row,  in  different  colours — very 
faint  colours — with  little  trees,  three-cornered  trees,  dotted  about 
among  them.  And  that  basket  of  plums,  with  a  drop  of  rain  and 
a  bee  on  one  of  them.  And  there's  a  painting  of  a  fish,  lying 
on  some  wet  grass.  And  who  is  that  little  girl,  over  the  chimney- 
piece,  with  a  blue  sash  on,  and  red  shoes  ?" 

"  That's  a  picture  of  Fermor  Worthington,  the  daughter  of 
young  Mr.  Morton  Worthington,  after  he  chose  to  marry,  and 
bring  home  a  wife  like  himself,  stiff,  and  high,  and  haughty,  and 
cold.  He  was  always  a  grand,  grave  young  gentleman — but  ho 
didn't  always  like  grave  young  ladies  ;  however,  that's  neither  here 
nor  there." 

"  But  the  little  girl — what  did  you  say  her  name  was  ? — tell 
me  more  about  her ;  "  said  Kate,  her  eyes  still  fixed  upon  the  full- 
length  portrait  of  a  child  no  older  than  herself,  which  hung  im- 
mediately opposite  to  where  she  was  sitting. 

"  Fermor  Worthington,"  repeated  the  nurse.  "  It's  an  odd 
name — especially  for  a  little  girl;  but  it  was  a  family  name,  as 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  33 

£'vc  heard ;  and  when  Mr.  Morton  had  a  child  born  to  him,  he 
pave  it  tn  her.  She  was  one  of  the  sweetest  children  I  ever  came 
near.  She  was  not  exactly  what  you  might  call  beautiful — though 
she  Lad  a  heavenly  sort  of  look  in  her  face,  too ;  but  she  had  such 
a  taking  countenance,  so  good,  so  innocent;  and  such  an  angel's 
temper  !  I  never  saw  her  put  out  in  my  life,  much  less  wrangle 
or  cry.  Pretty,  gentle  Miss  Fermor  !  I  wonder  what's  become 
of  her !  I  suppose  they  took  her  abroad  with  'em,  and  made  a 
Frenchified  young  miss  of  her.  And  yet,  it'd  take  a  deal  to  Frenchi- 
fy such  a  modest,  sweet  young  thing  as  she  was  !  " 

After  this  first  visit  to  Worthington  Court,  Kate  frequently 
made  her  nurse  bring  her  thither.  She  would  trot  all  over  the 
old  deserted  house ;  peer  into  the  china  closets  ;  lift  up  the  anti- 
quated chair-covers;  look  behind  the  moth-eaten  bed-hangings; 
start  at  the  sudden  reflection  of  herself  in  the  tall,  dim  mirrors ; 
pore  over  the  pictures,  clouded  by  mildewing  neglect;  and  watch 
the  shadows  of  the  climbing  plant  trained  against  the  library  win- 
dow, as  they  flickered  and  trembled  upon  the  polished  oaken  floor. 
But  what  of  all  other  things  most  riveted  her  attention,  was  the 
portrait  of  the  little  girl  over  the  parlour  chimney-piece.  She 
used  to  sit,  musingly,  opposite  to  it,  lost  in  thought,  her  gaze  fixed 
upon  the  gentle  countenance;  but  whenever  her  pre-occupation 
was  noticed,  she  broke  it  off,  and  spoke  of  something  else,  lightly 
and  almost  jceringly,  as  if  ashamed  of  her  own  emotion.  She 
would  even  use  hard,  disdainful  words,  depreciating  the  beauty 
of  the  face,  and  scoffing  at  the  child's  recorded  goodness ;  declar- 
ing that,  fir  ]K  r  part,  she  didn't  fancy  she  should  have  liked  her  at  all, 
ami  wouldn't  wish  to  have  known  her;  abused  her  name  as  a  prim 
i  pattern  one;  and  was  quite  glad  she  was  gone  away. 
While  her  heart  was  full  of  admiration,  and  loving  interest,  and 
1  feeling,  her  speech  perversely  affected  indifference  and  dis- 
She  felt  a  sort  of  anger  at  the  empire  the  picture  had  over 
her — a  resentment  at  the  effect  its  soft  beauty,  and  the  tale  of  the 
chill's  virtue,  had  upon  her  own  feelings;  but,  in  her  in- 
most sel;  she  involuntarily  yielded  up  her  spirit  to  the  gentle  as- 
sendency they  c  ver  her  fancy. 


54  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

While  little  Kate  sat  thus,  her  eyes  fastened  upon  the  picture 
Matty  would  murmur  on,  half  to  herself,  half  recounting  to  her 
young  companion,  her  by-gone  remembrances  and  associations  with 
the  old  place.  She  would  speak  of  old  Madam  "Worthington,  sit- 
ting so  starched  and  so  upright  in  her  arm-chair,  near  the  fire ;  of 
young  Mr.  Morton,  how  stately  and  how  stern  he  was,  yet  chang- 
ing colour  when  Miss  Hetty  came  in  ;  of  her  sprightly  answers  ; 
of  his  lofty  speeches  and  proud  looks,  while  his  voice  trembled 
and  his  lip  quivered,  in  spite  of  himself,  when  his  eye  encountered 
hers;  of  how,  for  all  his  gravity  and  dignity,  a  word  from  the 
young  girl  would  move  him  past  concealment ;  and  how,  after  all, 
she  would  show  that  she  neither  saw  nor  cared  what  was  passing 
in  his  mind.  She  was  but  a  young  thing  then — a  hoyden — a 
light-hearted,  romping  girl,"  muttered  Matty ;  "  what  was  she  to 
care  for  his  grandsire  looks,  I  trow  ?  She  made  believe  she  didn't 
see  'em ;  or  else  made  game  of  'em  !  " 

And  then  Kate  would  give  a  short,  triumphant  laugh,  as  if, 
child  as  she  was,  she  understood  and  enjoyed  her  mother's  treat- 
ment of  the  august  marble  man. 

"  He  was  an  excellent  young  gentleman,  to  be  sure ;  very  good, 
and  righteous,  and  strict  in  all  that  was  fit  to  do,"  continued  the 
nurse.  "  Every  body  said  he  had  the  best  of  principles — he  pri- 
ded himself  on  his  principle — he  used  to  tell  my  Miss  Hetty,  he 
did  everything  on  principle  ;  (and  then  she,  naughty  thing !  used 
to  giggle ;  though  I  can't  wonder  at  it,  neither,  she  so  young  and 
all !)  and  so  he  did ;  for  he  stuck  to  his  principles  of  doing  what 
he  ought,  instead  of  what  he  liked,  when  the  old  gentleman  died, 
and  it  was  found  out  that  he  had  spent  more  money  than  he  should. 
Well,  what  did  Mr.  Morton  do,  but  break  up  the  establishment ; 
and,  that  he  might  save  enough  to  pay  oft7  his  father's  debts,  left 
the  old  place  he  was  so  fond  of,  and  went  away  to  stint  and  scrimp 
in  foreign  parts.  Yes,  he  was  a  principled  man,  if  you  please  ! 
Pity  he  had  such  a  stony  way  with  him  1 " 

"  Was  Fermor  a  principled  girl  ?  "  asked  little  Kate. 

"  Well — yes ;  I  suppose  she  was,"  answered  Matty,  with  a 
hesitating,  considering  air.  "  That  is,  she  was  always  good  and 
pretty-behaved." 


THE   IRON    COT  SIN.  35 

"  Had  she  a  stony  way  with  her?  "  said  Kate. 

"  Oh,  dear,  no  1  When  she  was  doing  just  what  she  was  bid, 
Bhe  always  looked  pleasant  and  cheerful,  as  if  she  liked  best  to 
doit." 

"  Had  she  a  silly  way?"  vas  the  next  question. 

'  Silly  !  Oh,  la,  no  !  The  sensiblest  little  dear  you  ever 
eaine  near ;  and  such  a  one  at  her  book !  Why,  she  knew  all  her 
A  13  C  right  down  to  Z  and-pussy-and,  straight  on,  or  dodging 
about,  before  she  was  two  year  old  !  " 

Kate  swung  the  two  little  legs  that  dangled  from  the  old-fash- 
ioned couch  pn  which  she  sat,  with  considerable  energy,  for  a  long 
time  in  silence,  as  she  continued  to  gaze  up  at  the  picture  of  her 
of  whom  they  were  speaking.  At  length  she  said :  "  Nurse,  I 
should  like  you  to  teach  me  my  letters  when  we  go  home." 

"  That  I  will,  my  darling !  and  then  you'll  be  clever,  like  sweet, 
pretty,  gentle  Miss  Fermor,"  added  the  nurse. 

':I  don't  want  to  be  like  pretty  Miss  Fermor!"  exclaimed 
Kate.  u  I  dare  say  she  was  a  stupid  little  frump.  She  looks  as 
prim  and  as  sleek  as  our  old  Minny,  when  her  kitten's  having  a 
game  of  play,  and  she  pretends  not  to  want  to  join  in  it.  Sb* 
how  she  sits  upon  that  bank,  just  as  if  she  was  afraid  of  soiling 
that  white  frock,  lest  she  should  be  chid  for  it." 

''I  think  it's  a  pretty  picture  ;  and  it's  so  like — oh,  so  like  the 

i  child  herself!  "  said  Matty.     "  I  could  just  fancy  I  see  her, 

with  her  mild  blue  eyes,  the  very  colour  of  her  sash,  only  with 

such  a  beautiful  look  in  them;  pure  and  clear,  like  the  sky  of 

ilc;iven." 

The  little  socks  and  shoes  swung  to  and  fro  as  before,  while 
Kate;  said,  in  a  softened  voice:  "Very  like  her,  do  you  say?" 

"  Very."  And  the  nurso  looked  silently  at  it  for  some  time, 
as  did  her  young  companion.  But  presently  Matty  added :  "  She 
was,  indeed,  a  dear,  pretty  creature !  not  so  pretty  as  my  own 
darling,  to  be  sure ;  but  I  couldn't  wish  my  own  darling  to  be  a 
better  or  a  sweeter  child  than  she  was — and  I'm  certain  she'll  al- 
irays  try  and  be  as  nice  behaved." 

"  What,  I  ?  "  said  Kate,   "  I  won't  try  and  be  any  such  thiug, 


36  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

It  must  be  absurd  to  be  always  as  well-behaved  as  she  fpaa !  SLo 
has  such  a  good-child  look  !  Come,  let's  go  home.  Where's  Shet- 
land Bobby?" 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  'Squire  had  an  aunt,  a  sister  of  his  father,  who  came  to  pay 
him  a  visit  of  some  length.  It  was  a  periodical  custom  from  time 
immemorial,  and,  of  course,  in  the  old  'Squire's  time,  had  always 
taken  place  at  the  same  season  of  the  year,  and  had  endured  a 
precisely  similar  length,  commencing  on  one  particular  date,  and 
terminating  on  another  ;  and  the  observance  prevailed  still. 

Mrs.  Mustley  was  a  lady  of  assured  presence  and  assertive 
speech.  Her  sentences  generally  contained  some  impressive  sug- 
gestion or  counsel ;  prefaced,  it  is  true,  with  a  certain  deprecato- 
ry formula,  but  which  was  uttered  in  a  tone  calculated  rather  to 
enforce  attention  to  the  subsequent  advice  than  to  palliate  itp 
oracular  effect.  Although  she  might  introduce  her  decree  with  a 
flourish  of  conventional  deference,  it  could  yet  be  no  otherwise 
received  than  as  a  decree.  Her  hearers  felt  bound  to  accept  aa 
an  inevitable  ordination  what  she  pronounced  with  so  solemn  and 
final  an  air.  There  was  only  one  exception  to  those  with  whom 
Mrs.  Mustley's  edicts  were  law;,  this  exception  was  Mrs.  Must- 
ley's  husband — for  she  had  a  husband,  although  his  individual  ex 
istence  seemed  merged  in  her  more  important  person — who  had  a 
quiet  way  with  him  of  listening,  as  if  acquiescent,  but  acting  in 
total  opposition  to  her  fiat.  He  was  a  little,  placid,  shy,  absent 
man,  generally  taking  a  seat  in  some  corner  of  the  room,  and  rare- 
ly speaking  unless  spoken  to.  He  generally  read  at  meals,  and 
iFas  buried  in  a  book  at  most  times.  He  always  dressed  in  black 
and  wore  powder. 

"  Nephew,"  said  Mrs.  Mustley  to  the  'Squire,  as  they  eat  at 
breakfast,  the  second  morning  after  her  arrival,  "  you'll  excuse 
me,  but  really  you  should  observe  more  circumspection  in  your 


THI;  IROM  COUSIN.  37 

mode  of  treating  that  little  girl  you  have  adopted — Kate,  1  think 
you  call  her." 

"  Yes ;  Hetty's  child,"  said  the  'Squire 

"  Well,  far  be  it  from  me  to  dictate,  but  I  must  say,  it  is  high 
time  you  thought  of  some  better  tuition  for  her  than  she  has  at 
t.  That  good  woman — Martha,  I  think  you  call  her — is 
all  very  well;  trustworthy,  probably,  and  attached,  and  so  forth; 
but  an  ignorant  person  of  that  class  is  no  fit  instructress  for 
youth.'' 

"  It  is  early  days  with  Kate  yet ;  she's  a  mere  baby  still," 
pleaded  the  'Squire. 

"  Permit  me  to  observe,  nephew,  that  it  is  never  too  early  for 
the  inculcation  of  ideas,  and  the  instilling  of  moral  tcuets ;  there 
is  no  knowing  how  soon  vulgar  notions  may  be  acquired,  vulgar 
sayings  adopted,  or  vulgar  habits  contracted.  I  would  not  be 
thought  to  interfere,  still  less  to  prescribe ;  nevertheless,  you  ab- 
solutely ought  to  take  into  consideration  the  necessity  for  pro- 
viding a  proper  person  to  superintend  that  child's  education." 

"  I  will  think  of  it,  aunt,"  said  the 'Sjuin-,  uith  a  resigned 
fligh  ;  "  I  have  never  considered  little  Kate  but  as  my  pet,  my  play- 
thing, my  pretty  prattler — too  very  a  child  to  be  taught  anything  :' 

••  Forgive  me,  if  I  make  the  remark,  nephew,  that  that  is  a 
very  short-sighted  view  of  the  case ;  very  short-sighted,  very  weak 
and  very  wrong.  That  child  is  not  always  to  remain  a  mere  play 
thing — it  will  become  a  woman,  if  it  live.  By  the  bye,  allow  mt 
Mr.  .M'istley,  that  you  take  too  much  butter;  you  will  b« 
ill,  if  you  venture  to  cat  so  much." 

"  Yes,  my  dear,"  replied  Mr.  Mustley,  proceeding  to  spread 
upon  his  dry  toast  the  broad  slab  of  butter  he  had  just  helped 
himself  to. 

"  Hut  to  resume,"  said  Mrs.  Mustley.  "  That  child  will  not 
be  always  a  child  ;  you  cannot  gainsay  that  fact,  nephew,  however 
unwilling  I  may  be  to  press  my  argument  farther  than  may  be 
H^rrralilf.  The  child  will  grow  up.  ami  then  how  i*  it  to  perform 
its  part  in  the  world,  as  a  reasonable,  as  a  well-infi  run  d  being,  if  it 
have  always  ln-c-n  h-t't  to  herd  with  servants  and  low-bred  people  ?  " 


38  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

She  paused,  as  if  for  a  reply  to  her  question  ;  but  feeling  it 
to  bo  unanswerable,  and  judging  from  her  nephew's  silence,  who 
only  broke  the  crown  of  his  egg  with  a  smart  tap  of  the  spoon, 
that  he  felt  it  to  be  so  too,  she  went  on.  "  You  will  believe  that 
nothing  is  farther  from  my  wish  than  to  be  officious,  nephew,  when 
I  suggest  that  something  should  positively  be  resolved  upon,  and 
that  at  once,  with  regard  to  commencing  a  proper  course  of  study 
for  this  child.  I  will  myself  take  her  in  hand,  while  I  remain 
here,  and  see  what  can  be  done.  I  will  question  her  upon  what 
she  already  knows,  and  discover  what  will  be  best  for  her  to  pros- 
ecute in  future." 

"  I  am  afraid  you  will  find  she  knows  little  or  nc  thing  as  yet, 
my  dear  aunt,"  said  the  'Squire.  "  Your  intention  is  doubtless 
very  kind,  but  I  doubt  whether " 

"  Say  no  more,  nephew ;  leave  all  to  me  :  a  little  difficulty 
shall  not  discourage  me,"  said  Mrs.  Mustley,  conclusively.  Then, 
addressing  her  husband,  she  said  :  "  Far  be  it  from  me  to  dictate, 
Mr.  Mustley,  but—" 

"  Certainly,  my  dear,"  assented  he. 

"  But  you  really  should  not  miss  this  fine  morning  toi  a  walk. 
The  book  can  keep  cool  till  you  come  back ;  and  the  park  looks 
quite  tempting  this  bright,  sunny  day." 

li  Yes,  my  dear,"  replied  he,  drawing  an  easy-chair  near  to 
the  window,  ensconcing  himself  within,  adjusting  his  spectacles, 
leisurely  crossing  his  legs,  and  proceeding  to  open  his  volume  at 
the  page  where  he  last  left  off." 

"  And  I  will  go  seek  my  young  neophyte,"  said  Mrs.  Must- 
ley,  sweeping  away  with  the  air  of  general  complacency  and  state- 
liness,  with  which  she  usually  covered  any  point-blank  discrepan- 
3y  of  the  like  kind  between  her  husband's  words  and  his  deeds, 
consequent  upon  one  of  her  proposals. 

It  was  never  exactly  known  what  passed  at  these  interviews 
between  Mrs.  Mustley  and  little  Kate ;  but  they  took  place  daily, 
and,  after  them,  the  child's  eyes  were  red,  and  her  cheeks  flushed, 
and  she  looked  indignant,  and  swelling  with  a  sense  of  past  strug- 
gle. She  wag  of  too  high  a  spirit  to  complain  ;  besides,  she  felt 


THE    IKON    COUSIN.  39 

»hat  she  had  borne  her  full  share  in  the  word-contest  which  had 
evidently  taken  place  between  her  and  her  new  monitress,  so  that 
there  was  something  of  triumph;  as  well  aa  of  indignation,  in  her 
heightened  color. 

The  'Squire  was  perplexed  ;  he  was  of  too  passive  a  temper 
to  adopt  the  active  measure  of  prohibiting  his  formidable  aunt 
from  lecturing  Kate ,  he  had  a  vague  idea  that  children  required 
discipline,  and  believed  that  a  woman  of  Mrs.  Mustley's  expe- 
rience must  know  how  to  exercise  it ;  he,  therefore,  thought  the 
)>fst  way  he  could  do  to  neutralize  the  effect  of  the  disagreeable 
process,  was  to  increase  his  own  indulgence  towards  the  child 
during  this  necessary  ordeal,  and  to  make  her  feel  as  happy  as 
she  could  the  rest  of  the  day,  in  order  to  console  her  for  that 
hour  of  indispensable  endurance.  But  that  which  chiefly  swayed 
him  to  permit  the  arrangement  to  go  on  for  the  present  un- 
checked, was  the  knowledge  that  it  would  not  be  of  very  long 
continuance. 

•  What  a  blowzed  condition  you  are  in,  child  I "  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Mustley,  as  Kate  came  running  in,  one  morning,  to  tell  her 
uncle,  with  great  glee,  that  she  had  spied  a  blackbird's  nest  in 
the  old  thorn-tree  on  the  lawn,  low  enough  for  her,  when  Matty 
lifted  her  up,  to  peep  in  and  see  three  young  ones  huddling  to 
Aether  in  the  nest,  to  keep  each  other  warm. 

"  Take  me  on  your  knee  while  I  tell  you  all  about  it,"  said 
she  to  her  uncle. 

He  raised  her  to  her  favourite  seat,  while  she  continued 
eagerly  to  relate  the  wonders  of  the  half-fledged  family, — the  old 
birds  feeding  them, — the  gasping  beaks, — the  panting  sides, — 
the  huge-looking  eyes,  protruding  from  the  scanty  down  sprinkled 
on  their  bare  skulls  and  skinny  backs. 

"  Did  you  hear  me  speak  to  you,  child  ?  "  resounded  from  the 
portentous  voice  of  Mrs.  Mustley  ;  "  I  remarked  what  a  blowicd 
condition  you  were  in." 

"  Yes,  I  heard  you,"  said  little  Kate,  looking  over  her  shoul- 
der for  an  instant  with  a  nod,  and  then  turning  her  head  round 
*gain  to  rcsuiiK!  her  eager  talk. 


10  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  Then  why  don't  you  attend  to  me  if  you  heard  me  ?  "  per 
slated  Mrs.  Mustley. 

"  Because  I'm  busy  telling  uncle  about  the  nest,"  replied 
Kate. 

"  But  I  am  accustomed  to  be  attended  to  when  I  speak,"  ob- 
served Mrs.  Mustley,  loftily. 

"  Are  you  ?  "  said  Kate. 

K  Yes ;  and  I  desire  that  you  will  attend  to  me,  Miss  Pert." 

"  Well,  what  do  you  want  to  say  ?  "  said  Kate. 

"  I  observed  that  you  were  in  a  shameful  condition  for  a 
young  lady, — all  blowzy,  and  dirty,  and  heated  ;  see  what  a  state 
your  frock  is  in, — rumpled  and  splashed  with  mud  !  And  there's 
a  pair  of  hands !  as  though  you  had  been  digging  potatoes ! 
Why,  where  have  you  been,  to  muck  and  muddle  yourself  this 
fashion  ?  " 

"  I've  been  feeding  the  ducks,  and  watching  the  hen  with  the 
ducklings.  Oh,  uncle  !  old  Specklebreast  was  in  such  a  taking, 
when  she  saw  her  little  yellow  children  plunge  into  the  water 
and  swim  across  the  pond  !  She  ran  about  on  the  bank  like  a 
mad  thing,  and  I  after  her,  trying  to  make  her  understand  that 
her  children  were  in  no  danger." 

"  And  a  pretty  pickle  you  have  made  of  yourself,  scrambling 
about  the  muddy  bank,  and  paddling  in  and  out  the  pond  ! 
There's  a  pair  of  shoes  to  rub  against  your  uncle's  legs  ! " 

"  I  don't  mind  the  mud,  thank  you,  aunt,"  said  the  'Squire, 
quietly  drawing  the  grimy  little  socks  and  shoes  away  from  the 
vicinity  of  his  well-cleaned  boot,  and  placing  them  upon  the  snow- 
white  corded  covering  of  his  knee.  "  No  matter  for  a  little  mud, 
bless  her  !  "  he  added,  hugging  Kate  closer  against  him. 

"  You'll  excuse  me,  nephew,  but  you'll  live  to  repent  spoiling 
that  child  as  you  do.  You  make  an  absolute  fool  of  her." 

"  No,  he  only  makes  much  of  me — don't  you,  uncle  ?  "  said 
she,  putting  up  her  mouth  to  be  kissed. 

"  That  I  do,  my  Kate.  And  I  can  hardly  make  too  much 
of  thee,  for  my  own  liking,"  he  said,  fondly. 

"  But  for  your  own  comfort,  for  your  own   peace  hereafter 


THE    IRON    COUSIW.  41 

You'll  acquit  me  of  any  wish  to  be  pointed,  if  I  say  that  you  not 
only  make  a  fool  of  her,  but  of  yourself,  nephew,  to  pet  the  child 
in  that  absurd  way." 

"  I'll  risk  my  own  comfort ;  I'm  very  comfortable  petting 
Kat<>,"  said  the  'Squire,  with  a  smile. 

"  We're  both  very  comfortable,  thank  you,  ma'am,  petting 
each  other,"  said  the  child,  caressingly  stroking  her  uncle's 
1-ln.H'k,  and  reflecting  his  smile,  with  a  saucy  one  of  her  own. 

"  You  encourage  her  to  be  impertinent,  nephew,  by  your 
ridiculous  over-indulgence.  You'll  make  her  an  odious  child, 
and  a  detestable  woman.  You'll  make  her  loathed  by  every  one 
that  comes  near  her." 

"  On  the  contrary,  uncle  has  always  indulged  me,  and  every 
body  loves  me,  except  you,"  said  Kate. 

'•  If  I  don't  love  you,  child,  I  would  do  you  a  benefit,"  re 
turned  Mrs.  Mu>tlry;  "  I  would  save  you  from  becoming  that 
had  ful  thing,  a  spoiled  brat.  You  know  not  your  true  friend." 

"  Yes  I  do,"  answered  Kate,  nestling  nearer  to  the  'Squire. 
"  Uncle  never  does  any  thing  else  but  try  and  make  me  happy  ; 
you  never  do  any  thing  else  but  try  to  torment  me." 

"  I  torment  you — as  you  call  it — for  your  good,  you  poor 
little  ignorant  child,  you!  "  said  Mrs.  Mustley.  "  If  I  take  the 
pains  to  reclaim  you  from  your  state  of  moral  darkness,  it  is 
M  I  think  it  my  duty  not  to  omit  stretching  forth  a  helping 
hand  to  one  who  so  sorely  needs  enlightened  aid.  You  have  no 
mother  to  direct  what  should  be  done,  and  it  behoves  me,  as  a 
woman,  to  have  pity  for  your  unfortunate  condition,  and  point 
out  what  I  deem  essential  for  its  rectifying." 

"  My  aunt  means  you  very  kindly,  Katcy  ;  we  must  be  thank- 
ful and  grateful,  not  pert  and  saucy,  must  we  ?  "  Eaid  the  'Squire. 
"  Turn  to  Mrs.  Mustley,  and  tell  her  so  in  your  own  pretty  way, 
and  say,  '  Thank  you,  ma'am.'  " 

"  Thank  you  ma'aoi,  for  meaning  kindly,"  said  Kate;  "  but  if 
you  mean  to  be  kind,  why  can't  you  seem  kind  ? :) 

Mrs.  Mu.-tli-y  did  not  immediately  answer  ;  but  j.rc'.-fiitly  she 
said,  "  Come,  it's  your  lesson  time ;  let's  go  upstairs,  child,  and 


12  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

commence  the  morning's  studies."     Seeing  that  Kate  hesitated 
she  reiterated,  u  Come,  child,  come ;  I'm  waiting." 

"  Do  you  wish  me  to  go  with  her  ?  "  said  Kate  to  her  uncle. 

"  Of  course  he  does — of  course  my  nephew  wishes  you  not  to 
keep  me  waiting.  Come  !  " 

Kate  lingered  yet  another  instant ;  but  finding  that  the  'Squire 
relaxed  his  hold  of  her  a  little,  in  mechanical  obedience  to  his 
aunt's  words,  the  child  slid  down  from  his  arms,  and  walked  re- 
solutely out  of  the  room  with  Mrs.  Mustley.  The  'Squire,  as  he 
generally  did,  when  this  juncture  arrived,  walked,  with  his  quiet 
sigh  of  resignation,  to  the  window;  and  stood  there,  drumming 
idly  with  his  fingers  upon  the  pane. 

"  My  good  nephew," — began  a  shy,  hesitating  voice,  from  the 
corner  near  him. 

The  'Squire,  in  his  reverie,  had  not  perceived  the  small  retir- 
ing figure  of  Mr.  Mustley  ensconced  in  an  arm-chair  just  with- 
in the  recess  of  the  deep  embayed  window  where  he  was  stand- 
ing. 

"  My  excellent  nephew,"  went  on  the  voice,  after  a  bashful 
cough  and  pause,  "  I  wish  I  could  be  of  any  assistance  to  you  in 
your  perplexity.  Education  has  been  a  difficult  problem  from 
the  very  beginning  of  the  world,  and  has  occupied  the  hearts 
and  heads  of  the  tenderest  and  the  wisest.  Don't  be  downcast, 
because  you  cannot  at  once  hit  upon  the  best  plan  for  your  little 
missy's  training." 

"  If  I  should  be  the  means  of  rendering  her  an  odious  child, 
— a  detestable  woman,  after  all !  I,  who  would  have  her  loved 
by  all  the  world  as  I  love  her ! "  said  the  'Squire,  thoughtfully 
and  mournfully. 

"  She  will  not  become  odious  or  detestable,  take  my  word  for 
it,"  said  Mr.  Mustley.  "  There  is  the  making  of  a  very  unc  crea- 
ture in  that  young  thing,  or  I'm  much  mistaken.  I  should  like 
nothing  better  than  to  have  the  forming  of  her  mind.  What  a 
Greek  scholar  I'd  make  her  !  " 

"  No,  no,"  said  the  'Squire  ;  ':  a  little  music,  a  little  drawing, 
— perhaps  some  knowledge  of  dancing, — would  be  quite  as  much 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  43 

as  the  poor  child  need  try  to  manage.  I  suppose  she  must  learn 
something ;  but  by  and  bye,  and  by  degrees,  by  degrees." 

"  I  have  some  smattering  of  the  two  first  accomplishments  you 
name,"  said  Mr.  Mustley,  hesitatingly ;  "  I  know  something  of  the 
rudiments  of  drawing  and  perspective,  and  have  made  the  theory 
of  music  my  occasional  study  ;  if  you  would  let  me  try  my  skill 
in  imparting  some  little  portion  of  what  I  have  acquired  in  these 
arts  to  your  young  niece,  I  should  be  both  proud  and  pleased  to 
have  her  for  my  pupil  during  the  remainder  of  our  stay." 

The  'Squire  grasped  the  shy  spoken  little  old  man  by  his 
shrinking,  retiring  hand,  in  hearty  thanks;  and  then  he  added, 
<:  Do  you  think  I  spoil  Kate  ?  " 

Mr.  Mustley  only  gave  his  bashful  cough,  pushed  his  spec- 
tacles nervously  upon  his  bald,  powdery  forehead,  and  brushed 
the  snuff  from  his  shirt-frill. 

"  If  you  do,  I  can't  help  it ;  I  can't  help  indulging  that 
child.  She's  the  very  apple  of  my  eye,  the  delight  of  my 
heart,  and  I  can't  help  showing  it  Upon  my  life,  I  can't 
help  it" 

"  It  certainly  is  impossible  to  help  loving  her,  and  I  don't 
know  why  it  need  be  helped.  She's  a  most  fascinating  little 
creature,  with  those  dark  eyes  of  hers,  and  that  white,  ample 
forehead.  I've  no  doubt  she  has  a  fine  memory.  What  a  head 
she'd  have  for  Greek  roots  !  "  « 

But  seeing  the  same  frightened  expression  cross  the  'Squire's 
face  as  before,  upon  the  same  hint,  Mr.  Mustley  added,  "  Don't 
be  afraid  ;  I  promise  to  teach  her  nothing  but  music  and  drawing, 
till  you  give  me  leave." 

"  But,  perhaps — all  things  considered — even  those  might  bo 
•<>o  much  for  her  to  begin  now,  in  addition  to  her  lessons  from 
my  ;umt,"  stammered  the  'Squire. 

"  Never  fear ;  my  tutelage  shall  supersede  that  of  Mrs.  Must- 
-aid  the  placid-spoken  little  old  man. 

••  l>ut  will  she — may  not  she — do  you  think  sho  will  give  up 
her  pupil?"  gasped  the  'Squire,  with  an  impressive  recollection 
of  his  aunt's  mode  of  carrying  a  point  upon  which  sho  h:iJ 
re  so  1vol. 


44  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  Leave  all  that  to  me,  leave  all  that  to  me,"  replied  Mr. 
Mustlej,  aa  he  quietly  prepared  to  re-inter  himself  in  the  pages 
of  his  book. 

Next  day,  when  Mrs.  Mustley  was  about  to  stalk  off  with 
Kate,  announcing  that  it  was  lesson-time,  her  husband  rose  from 
his  seat,  took  the  child's  hand  in  his  to  lead  her  away,  and 
said,  "  Just  so,  my  dear.  Kate  takes  her  lessons  with  me  to- 
day." 

"  With  you,  Mr.  Mustley  ?  Why,  you  must  be  dreaming  ! 
you  can  teach  her  nothing  but  a  parcel  of  humdrum  old  trash ; 
philosophy  and  science,  and  musty,  bygone  things,  that  could  be 
of  no  use  to  a  modern  young  lady,  or  any  young  lady.v 

"  Exactly,  my  dear ;  "  and  he  moved  to  the  door. 

"  If  you  want  us,  you'll  find  Kate  and  me  in  the  library,  my 
good  nephew,"  he  added,  as  he  quietly  turned  the  handle  of  the 
lock. 

"  Reluctant  as  I  may  be  to  withdraw  my  guidance  where  I  sec 
it  so  needful,"  said  Mrs.  Mustley,  drawing  herself  up  to  her  full 
height,  "  I  must  positively  and  at  once  declare  that  I  renounce 
all  future  interference  in  that  child's  welfare." 

"  Quite  right,  my  dear,"  said  Mr.  Mustley,  as  he  passed  out, 
hand-in-hand  with  little  Kate. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  change  from  her  late  instructress  to  her  present  bland  old 
preceptor,  was  a  salutary  as  well  as  delightful  relief  to  the  child. 
The  one  lesson-time  had  been  a  constant  series  of  bickering  and 
wrangling  ;  stern  commands  on  the  part  of  Mrs.  Mustley,  flippant 
replies  on  that  of  Kate.  Nothing  could  be  more  pernicious  for 
a  child  of  Kate  Ireton's  disposition  than  this  ceaseless  word-war ; 
it  excited  all  her  worst  qualities,  strengthening  her  tendency  to 
wilfulness,  and  fostering  her  spirit  of  imperiousness.  She  gained 


THE    IRON    C(>:  45 

jonfidence  in  her  power  of  disputation,  and  learned  to  use  her 
tongue  in  retort,  with  self-applause  and  self-reliance.  The  other 
!c<son  -time  resolved  itself  into  a  perpetual,  patient  listening.  She 
had  nothing  else  for  it,  while  the  serene  little  old  pedant  went 
complacently  on.  pouring  forth  his  streams  of  erudition  into  her 
childish  ear. 

He  commenced  his  instructions  in  perspective,  by  laying  be- 
fore her  a  sheet  of  drawing-paper,  marking  certain  spots  on  it, 
drawing  various  straight  lines,  transverse  lines,  parallel  lines, 
horizontal  lines,  diagonal  lines,  and  intersecting  lines  ;  and  then 
going  tracing  about,  just  above  them,  with  the  hovering  tip  of  his 
pencil,  and  discoursing  learnedly  on  of  "  point  of  distance,"  "  di- 
recting point,"  "  vanishing  point,"  "  vanishing  line,"  "  ground 
line.''  and  "  horizon." 

It  was  his  rule  that  there  was  nothing  like  beginning  at  the 
beginning  ;  therefore  he  opened  his  elementary  precepts  in  music 
by  a  dissertation  on  the  systems  of  the  ancients.  He  told  her 
of  the  different  principles  laid  down  by  Pythagoras  and  Aris- 
toxeneus  ;  and  then  he  would  branch  off  into  a  discussion  of  in- 
composite  ditones,  semiditones,  hemitones,  and  trihemitones.  He 
would  dilate  with  enthusiasm  upon  the  "  sonus  bombus  ;  "  and 
told  her  that  "  A  B  being  the  supcrtertius  of  G  B,  Gr  B  will 
Hound  a  diatessaron  to  A  B  towards  the  acumen  ;  and  since  A  B 
is  Proslambanomenos,  G  B  will  indisputably  be  Hypaton  Dia- 
tonos." 

Whereupon  little  Kate  would  say,  "  Oh  !  "  as  if  she  took  his 
word  for  it. 

And  then  he  would  say,  she  doubtless  perceived  that  "as 
A  1»  was  ipiadruple  of  C  B,  C  B  must  necessarily  be  Nete  Hy- 


To   which   she  replied,   "  Is   it  V  ''  and    he   rejoined,   "  Of 
course." 

\\\-  t  .i:  lacid,  his  manner  so  composedly  emphatic, 

ami  s.»  xitislii'dly  conclusive  of  her  comprehending  all  he  n; 
that  tin-re  seemed  no  occasion  for  her  to  declare  her  inapprehen- 
«veness;   all  she  had  to  do  was  to  sit  and  listen,  which  she  did 


46  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

her  thoughts  busying  themselves  with  his  pleasant,  even  voice, 
that  went  smoothly  on,  taking  all  for  granted ;  with  his  dappled 
cheeks,  on  which  meandered  a  thousand  minute,  veiny,  red  lines ; 
with  his  large,  bald  head,  his  spectacles  thrust  back  upon  it, 
(wondering  whether  they  would  keep  their  place,  and  often 
watching  their  gradual  slipping  down,  and  when  they  ultimately 
ended  by  dropping  over  his  nose,  saw  him  mildly  push  them  up 
again  and  resume) ;  with  his  black  coat,  powder-speckled  in  front, 
straying  particles  of  the  white  pla&tered  mass  that  decorated  its 
collar  behind,  at  the  nape  of  his  neck ;  with  the  layers  of  snuff 
that  loaded  the  ridges  of  his  cambric  shirt-frill  and  kerseymere 
waistcoat ;  with  the  white,  but  wrinkled  hands,  and  their  shiny, 
loose  skin,  hanging  so  separate,  yet  BO  a  part  of  them,  that  it 
often  excited  in  her  a  whimsical  wish  to  try  how  far  she  could 
draw  it  up  away  from  the  thin  fingers  beneath,  like  a  natural 
clinging  glove. 

Little  Kate  had  plenty  to  entertain  hej  fancy  with,  while  the 
bland  old  book -worm  prosed  on. 

"  Euclid  doubles  the  numbers  made  use  of  by  Quintilianus  ; 
but  you  will  at  once  perceive,  my  dear,  that  whether  we  take  the 
number  30  or  60  for  the  gross  content  of  the  tetrachord,  the  mat- 
ter is  just  the  same." 

"  Just,  sir — to  me,"  was  the  reply  that  rose  to  Kate's  lips, 
with  a  roguish  twinkle  of  her  eye,  which,  however,  was  com 
pletely  lost  upon  the  old  gentleman,  wrapped  as  he  was  in  ab- 
stract speculation. 

He  had  not  the  most  distant  perception  that  all  his  learned 
teaching  was  so  much  time  lost — so  many  words  thrown  away. 
He  had  not  an  idea  that  to  address  the  understanding  of  a  child 
of  her  age  in  the  style  he  did,  was  sheer  absurdity.  He  could 
perceive  the  defects  in  the  system  of  moral  training  pursued  with 
regard  to  her,  but  saw  not  the  blunders  he  made  in  his  attempt 
at  her  intellectual  culture.  He  could  discern  the  strictness  of 
his  wife,  and  the  spoiling  of  the  'Squire,  and  could  comprehend 
how  injudicious  they  each  were;  but  he  never  dreamed  that  his 
own  method  of  instruction  was,  in  its  way,  equally  ill-adapted  tc 


THE    IRON    COUSIW.  47 

produce  any  beneficial  effect.  But  he  was  a  kind-mannered,  gentle 
old  man ;  and  the  child  liked  him,  and  her  lesson-time  with  him, 
extremely. 

It  was,  therefore,  with  regret  that  she  heard  the  time  ap- 
pointed for  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Mustley's  taking  their  leave.  Since 
the  old  lady  announced  her  determination  of  taking  no  farther 
part  in  Kate's  concerns,  she  had  adhered  to  her  welcome  threat, 
and  had  left  the  little  girl  wholly  in  the  hands  of  her  husband 
and  nephew,  to  be  ruined  after  their  several  tastes.  Once  only 
she  had  nearly  forgotten  herself,  and  offered  another  piece  of 
advice.  They  happened  to  be  talking  of  some  mutual  acquaint- 
ances of  theirs — distant  connections,  indeed ;  and  Mrs.  Mustlcy 
wound  up  an  eulogium  on  her  esteemed  friends,  the  Whites,  of 
Egghaui  Park,  by  saying  to  the  'Squire :  "  You'll  exonerate  me 
from  any  charge  of  wishing  to  sway  your  proceedings,  nephew,  if  I 
just  venture  to  suggest,  that  the  Whites,  of  Egghara  Park,  were 
much  respected  by  your  poor  dear  mother,  as  well  as  myself; 
and  therefore  it  might  not  be  amiss— nay,  I  may  go  BO  far  as  to 
affirm  that  it  would  be  only  proper — were  you  to  send  them  an 
invitation  to  Heathcote  Hall  next  Easter.  Their  daughter, 
Alicia,  is  grown  such  a  dear,  excellent  girl — so  prudent,  so  good, 
so  everything  that  a  young  lady  should  be.  She  would  make  an 
admirable  companion  for  your  Kate ;  her  society  and  example 
would  be  an  inestimable  advantage.  But,  excuse  me,  I  said  I 
never  would  make  another  remark  relative  to  that  child's  man- 
agement." 

••  Yes,  my  dear,"  said  Mr.  Mustley. 

"  I  will  think  of  what  you  say,  aunt,"  said  the  'Squire.  '•  I 
did  not  know  that  they  were  especial  favourites  with  my  mother ; 
but  their  being  friends  of  yours  will  ensure  their  welcome  here  at 
any  time.  I  will  invite  them." 

But  when  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Mustley  were  gone,  the  time  went  so 
pleasantly  with  the  'Squire — relieved  from  the  incubus  of  his 
aunt's  dictation,  and  restored  to  the  uninterrupted  society  of  his 
hunting  associates — that  he  forgot  all  about  his  promised  invita- 
tion to  the  Whites  of  Eggham  Park.  Whether  it  was  this  fail 


48  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

ure  in  his  observance  of  a  point  on  which  her  wishes  had  beeu 
distinctly  expressed,  or  whether  it  was  owing  to  the  want  of  due? 
appreciation  and  ill  success  with  which  her  efforts  on  Kate's 
behalf  had  been  followed,  certain  it  is,  that  her  nephew  received 
indubitable  proof  of  his  aunt's  having  taken  deep  offence.  Not 
long  after  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Mustley  left  Heathcote  Hall,  the  worthy 
quietist  died ;  and  in  answer  to  the  letter  which  the  'Squire 
wrote  to  bis  aunt,  offering  his  condolences,  and  begging  her  to 
come  and  make  his  house  her  home  in  her  time  of  sorrow,  a  most 
distant  reply  arrived,  informing  him  that  she  was  much  obliged, 
but  that  she  intended  to  spend  her  period  of  mourning  with  her 
esteemed  and  worthy  friends,  the  Whites,  of  Eggham  Park. 

The  'Squire,  sorry  that  she  was  affronted,  but  certainly  far 
from  sorry  that  she  declined  making  her  abode  with  him,  gave 
himself  up  to  a  peaceful  enjoyment  of  his  present  existence. 
Kate  had  grown  of  a  companionable  age  ;  and,  habituated  to  pony- 
back  from  babyhood,  the  little  girl  was  early  a  fearless  rider,  and 
a  skilful  horsewoman.  She  now  accompanied  her  uncle  in  all  his 
out-door  pursuits,  and  was  constantly  by  his  side,  abroad  and  at 
home.  He  was  not  happy  if  she  were  out  of  his  sight ;  and  she  loved 
him  as  devotedly  as  he  her.  He  was  the  only  being  whom  she 
implicitly  obeyed,  and  had  not  a  thought  of  contradicting.  With 
all  others,  she  was  apt  to  be  froward,  impetuous,  ungovernable ; 
fond  of  having  her  own  way,  and  accustomed  to  obtain  it.  But 
to  him  she  invariably  yielded.  His  will  was  her  law ;  to  see  him 
pleased,  her  chiefest  pleasure. 

While  Kate  was  still  very  young,  an  old  friend  and  school-fel- 
low of  her  uncle's  came  to  enjoy  a  short-lived  holiday  with  him — 
the  first  which  the  incessant  demands  upon  his  time  bad  permit- 
ted him  to  snatch  from  the  midst  of  his  London  avocations  since 
he  had  commenced  his  profession. 

His  name  was  John  Weldon,  a  lawyer  of  great  repute  for 
shrewd-headed,  worldly  knowledge ;  he  was  possessed  of  sound, 
natural  good  sense,  and  had  spared  no  pains  in  adding  informa- 
tion and  acquirements  to  original  advantages.  He  was  an  odd 
combination  of  quickness  and  slowness  in  manner.  He  would,  at 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  49 

times,  dart  out  a  sarcasm,  or  a  retort,  with  an  almost  startling 
suddenness ;  at  others  he  would  seem  absorbed,  inapprehensive, 
unuoting ;  but  some  pertinent  observation,  some  abrupt  comment, 
would  prove  that  he  had  only  been  quietly  and  patiently  watch- 
ing, while  apparently  so  inattentive  to  what  was  passing.  He 
would  pause,  in  silence,  and  looking  down,  so  long  and  so  absently, 
that  he  had  the  air  of  one  wholly  lost  to  the  consciousness  of  sur- 
rounding circumstances ;  but  a  sudden  raising  of  the  head,  a  rapid 
nod,  and  a  sharp  "  Go  on  !"  would  demonstrate  that  he  was  fully 
alive  to  all  the  points  of  procedure. 

When  he  arrived  at  the  old  Hall,  he  seemed  determined  to 
give  himself  up  to  a  thorough  and  lazy  enjoyment  of  the  country 
holiday  he  had  allowed  himself  with  his  friend  the  'Squire.  He 
luxuriated  in  the  absolute  repose,  the  mere  "  sitting  still  and 
doing  nothing,"  so  rarely  tasted  by  the  professional  Londoner. 
He  would  throw  himself  upon  the  cushioned  seat  at  one  of  the 
open  windows,  and  content  himself  with  gazing  out  at  the  trees 
and  turf  glades  of  the  park,  and  with  snuffling  up  the  fresh  pure 
air,  not  once  caring  to  go  forth  and  walk  or  ride.  The  'Squire 
used,  each  morning,  to  try  his  best  to  induce  him  to  come  out  and 
see  the  new  lodge  he  was  building,  or  the  new  road  he  was  laying 
out,  or  the  new  plantation  he  was  meditating;  but  the  lawyer  was 
not  to  be  tempted  from  his  shady  lounge,  where,  he  said,  he  had 
full  command  of  earth  and  sky  ;  and  what  could  he  have  better  or 
more  ? 

••  Nay,  I  want  you  to  look  at  the  new  fish-preserve  I  am  plan- 
ninir,  down  in  the  hollow ;  you  can't  see  it  from  the  windows,' 
said  the  'Squire. 

'•  And  so  add  water  to  my  elements  of  enjoyment  ?  "  returned 
the  lawyer.  "  But  I'll  none  of  it.  It  forms  no  constituent  part 
»f  my  pleasures.  Neither  in  my  scenery,  nor  in  my  potations,  do 
I  need  the  impertinent  mingling  of  water.  It  hath  an  allaying, 
n»t  a  heightening  quality." 

"  Let  me  order  out  the  horses,  and  we'll  have  a  gallop  over  to 
Oakloigh  Hill.  From  there,  I'll  show  you  a  fine  expanse  of  coun- 
try that  you  wo'n't  beat  in  all  the  panoramas  that  ever  were  exiu- 


50  THE    IRON    COUSI1C. 

tnted  in  your  great  city.  You  gain  a  view  over  five  counties  from 
the  top  of  Oakleigli  Hill." 

"  My  dear  fellow,  my  desires  are  more  limited ;  a  home-view 
best  contents  me.  Why  should  I  race  ten  miles  and  back,  through 
dust  and  heat,  to  look  at  a  prospect  that  won't  pleasure  me  half 
as  well  as  yonder  grassy  knoll,  crowned  with  wooded  beauty,  that 
lies  stretched  before  me,  giving  me  no  farther  pains  than  to  lie 
stretched  here  looking  at  it  ?  " 

The  'Squire  laughed,  and  said :  "  As  you  please ;  of  course,  I 
only  fear  lest  you  should  find  the  old  place  dull,  and  I  want  to 
keep  you  here  as  long  as  I  can." 

"  And,  depend  on  it,  I  stay  here  as  long  as  I  can,"  returned 
his  friend.  "  No  fear  of  my  finding  any  place  dull,  after  sitting 
day  after  day,  all  day,  in  court." 

"  Is  court  dull  ?  I  always  thought  court  was  the  gayest  place 
in  the  world,"  said  little  Kate.  "  I've  heard  of  the  king  and 
queen  sitting  on  their  thrones,  with  all  the  courtiers  in  court- 
dresses,  and  ladies  in  court-trains,  fine  as  fine  could  be !  " 

"  In  court,  and  at  court,  are  very  different  things ;  though  I 
have  heard  the  last  pronounced  to  be  little  less  dull  than  the  first, 
by  those  who  think  that  walking  through  a  succession  of  state- 
rooms is  not  very  lively  entertainment.  But,  be  that  as  it  may, 
little  one,  you  are  talking  of  going  to  court,  as  it  is  called,  and  I 
was  talking  of  attending  court — a  court  of  law." 

"  Ah,  a  court  of  law !  And  you  are  a  lawyer.  Is  that  the 
reason  you  are  a  bad  horseman  ?  "  said  she. 

"It  never  struck  me  before,  but,  perhaps  it  may,"  he  answered 
drily ;  "  I  profess  to  deal  in  equity,  not  in  equitation.  But  how 
did  you  find  out  I  was  a  bad  horseman,  little  one  ?  " 

"  I  guessed  it,  because  -you  never  will  ride,"  answered  she.  "  I 
should  think  no  one  dislikes  riding,  but  those  who  can't  manage  a 
horse." 

The  lawyer  laughed.  "  Then  you  can  manage  a  horse,  I  con- 
elude.  And  you  are  fond  of  riding  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  and  I  am  sorry  you  are  not,  as,  while  you  arc  here 
auoie  and  T  lose  our  pleasant  ridos  together." 


THE    IHON    COUSIN.  51 

"  Frankly  answered,"  returned  the  lawyer,  smiling ;  "  I  wish 
we  could  got  witnesses  to  speak  as  straight-forwardly,  and  as  much 
to  the  point." 

"  Then  you'll  go  ?  You'll  ride  out  with  us  next  time  ?"  said 
Kate,  eagerly. 

"  I  made  no  such  promise,  that  I  recollect,"  said  the  lawyer, 
amused  with  her  pertinacity. 

No,  you  didn't  promise,  hut  you  looked  as  if  you  were  going 
to  consent,"  replied  she. 

"  Oh,  ho  !  You  judge  by  looks,  do  you,  my  little  maid  ?  If 
you  were  a  lawyer,  you  would  learn  to  place  little  faith  in  looks. 
And  yet,  methinks,  I  can  read  something  of  the  truth  in  yours. 
Let  me  Bee ;  there's  a  saucy  brightness  in  that  pair  of  eyes  that 
tells  me  they  can  flash  with  the  triumph  of  getting  the  better,  in 
word  or  deed ;  there's  a  lurking  smile  in  that  dimple,  which  be- 
speaks a  roguish  delight  in  mischief;  there's  something  in  the 
curve  of  those  full,  red  lips,  that  shows  a  resolute  will." 

"  If  you  don't  judge  by  looks,  why  do  you  stare  at  my  face 
so?" Mic  said. 

•'  Well  done,  petulance  !  "  exclaimed  he.     "  But,  come,  I  havo 

said  nothing  of  your  looks  that  they  need  be  ashamed  of.     If 

there's  a  love  of  getting  the  better,  there's  also  a  likelihood  of 

ng  the  better,  and  having  the  better;  for  there's  both  right 

heart  and  right  mind  in  those  eyes ;  if  there's  a  bit  of  the  rogue 

in  the  smiling  dimple,  there's  a   sweet  beauty  to  atone  f«>r  the 

.iirss;  and  if  there's  will  in  the  lips,  will  is  that  which  may 

be  turned  to  highest  good  as  to  deepest  evil." 

"  But  I  don't  choose  ray  looks  and  my  face  to  be  talked  about."1 
paid  Kate. 

Ah,  ha!  the  haughtiness  of  a  beauty  who  is  scarcely  ten 
•Id  !     Why,  child,  if  your  face  fulfil  its  present  promise,  it 
is  like  enough  to  be  talked  about,  and  fought  about,  by  and 

Kate,  in  high  displeasure  at  the  lawyer's  banter,  turned  away, 
and  addressed  herself  exclusively  to  her  uncle,  who  bade  her  go 
:  hrr  lial.it,  and  ri-le  over  as  far  as  the  next  village,  upon 

lomer  i  which  1  c  pretended  wanted  executing,  knowing 


52  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

that  she  cared  not  to  ride  out  without  him,  unless  for  some  ex- 
press purpose  of  his. 

After  dinner,  as  the  gentlemen  were  sitting  together  over  their 
wine,  the  lawyer  said :  "  You're  very  fond  of  that  dark-eyed  child, 
aren't  you  ?  " 

"  I  love  her  better  than  anything  in  the  world — better  than 
the  world  itself,"  was  the  'Squire's  answer. 

"  Humph  !  I  thought  as  much,"  said  his  friend. 

After  a  few  minutes'  silence,  during  which  the  'Squire  had 
looked  thoughtfully,  but  happily,  into  space,  revolving  in  how 
many  ways  Kate  was  dear  to  him,  the  lawyer  added  abruptly : 
"Did  you  ever  make  your  will?" 

"  Eh  ?  No,  never,"  said  the  'Squire,  in  answer  to  his  friend's 
question,  as  if  awaking  from  a  reverie.  "  No ;  I  like  life  so  well, 
I  never  thought  of  making  preparations  for  death." 

"  The  way  with  many  people  who  prize  life — think  they're  never 
to  part  with  it !  "  said  the  lawyer.  "  Nevertheless,  a  time  comes 
when  they're  forced  to  give  it  up,  regret  it  how  they  may.  So 
best  put  affairs  in  such  order  as  not  to  be  taken  by  surprisS  when 
called  upon  to  quit  them.  You  should  make  your  will." 

"  It's  too  much  trouble,"  said  the  'Squire,  laughing,  "  You 
know  I  hate  trouble — business  trouble." 

"  And  so  leave  all  the  trouble  to  those  who  come  after  you ; 
business  trouble  for  those  who  have  to  arrange  your  affairs,  money 
trouble — or  rather,  want  of  money  trouble,  for  those  who  ought  to 
inherit.  It  is  every  man's  duty  to  take  upon  himself  the  little 
present  trouble  of  making  a  will,  in  order  that  he  may  spare  to 
his  survivors  the  great  after  trouble  of  finding  no  will." 

"Well, well,  I'll  see  about  it,"  said  the  'Squire.  "  I  mean  to 
live  on  many  a  long  year  yet.  Time  enough  ! — time  enough  ! 
There's  long  life  in  the  family !  A  good,  sound  constitution  of 
my  own !  comfortable  prospect,  eh  ?  " 

"  Did  you  ever  insure  your  life  ?  "  inquired  the  lawyer,  drily 
and  suddenly. 

"  Eh  ?  No.  Wish  I  could,  though,  eh  ?  "  returned  he,  laugh- 
ing,  "since  I  tell  you  I've  every  reason  to  love  it.  I  lead  it  in 


THE   IRON    COUSIN.  53 

Ibe  way  I  love  best;  I  have  my  horses  and  dogs,  my  comfortable 
house,  my  snug  room,  my  fine  old  trees,  my  bottle  of  wine,  good 
hearty  friends,  Jack  Weldon  for  my  friend  of  friends  ;  nobody  to 
say  me  nay  in  aught  I  have  a  mind  to  say  or  do;  out  all  day  long, 
if  I  think  fit ;  up  all  night,  if  I  please ;  jolly  fellows  for  compan- 
ions; -faithful  servants  to  take  care  of  me ;  and,  to  crown  all,  my 
darling  little  Kate,  whom  I  love  as  if  she  were  my  own — as,  in- 
deed, she  is,  every  inch  of  her — any  own  flesh  and  blood;  my  niece 
— dear  to  me  as  a  daughter  1 " 

'•  For  her  sake  you  should  insure  your  life,"  said  the  lawyer, 
"For  her  sake  you  should  make  your  will.  If  I  remember  right- 
ly, you  have  only  a  life-interest  here ;  the  estate,  in  default  of  di- 
-no,  going  to  some  distant  claimant — over  in  Canada,  or 
Lord  knows  where  1  On  all  accounts,  it  would  be  advisable  to 
make  a  will.  It  would  secure  personals;  and,  moreover,  the  very 
act  of  making  testamentary  arrangements  would  bring  you  to  look 
into  your  affairs  a  little,  which  would  be  very  advisable." 

"  And  very  worrying,"  said  the  'Squire,  shifting  uneasily  in 
his  chair,  and  then  letting  himself  drop  gently  back  into  it. 

"  You  live  in  an  expensive  style,  for  all  its  seeming  simpli- 
city," pursued  his  friend ;  "  you  keep  up  the  old  place  as  it  has 
ever  been ;  you  maintain  your  pack  and  your  stud  ;  you  keep 
much  laud  unprofitably  fallow ;  you  don't  look  into  your  receipts 
•  rtain  whether  they  keep  pace  with  your  outlay.  A  man's 
a  blockhead  who,  under  such  circumstances,  don't  make  his  will 
and  insure  his  life — that  is,  if  be  have  any  one  he  cares  about,  to 
come  after  him." 

"  But,  after  all,  insuring  my  life  won't  make  me  live  one  hour 
the  longer  or  the  surer,  and  you  know  it,"  said  the  'Squire,  with 
a  playfully  conclusive  air ;  "  lawyer  though  you  be,  you  won't 
attempt  to  prove  that,  I  suppose ;  and  as  long  as  I  do  live,  Kate 
has  a  home  with  me." 

"  And  when  you  die  ?  "  sharply  retorted  the  lawyer.  "  You 
don't  seem  to  me  to  comprehend  the  plainest  form  of  question." 

"  Yet  you  put  it  tolerably  plainly,  too,  Jack,"  said  the 
Squire,  with  his  look  of  quiet  humour.  "  Coiue,r  continued  he, 


54  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  cion't  let's  talk,  or  think,  of  unpleasant  things,  but  take  another 
glass  of  this  bright  old  Burgundy,  worth  all  the  dull  wills,  and 
insurances,  and  musty  parchment  deeds,  that  ever  were  devised 
by  you  lawyers  to  torment  mankind  with." 

They  fell  into  other  talk,  and  no  more  was  said  on  the  same 
subject  between  the  'Squire  and  his  friend,  until  the  last  evening 
before  the  lawyer  left.  Just  as  they  were  parting  for  the  night, 
the  'Squire  was  recounting  some  circumstance  relative  to  his  late 
father,  when  it  struck  him  that  his  companion  was  lost  in  thought, 
and  not  attending  to  what  he  was  saying ;  but,  upon  his  making 
some  remark  to  this  effect,  the  lawyer  replied  briskly  :  "  I  beg 
your  pardon;  I  perfectly  follow  what  you  say;"  and  he  repeated 
his  precise  last  words.  After  the  space  of  a  minute,  however,  he 
said  :  "  You  will  remember  what  I  said  of  the  prudence  of  insur- 
ing your  life  ?  " 

"  I'll  remember,"  said  the  'Squire. 

"  And  you'll  think  of  what  I  told  you  about  making  your  will?" 

"  I'll  be  sure  to  think  of  it,"  said  the  'Squire. 

"  Don't  fail,  there's  a  good  fellow  !  "  said  the  lawyer. 

"  I  won't,"  said  the  'Squire,  as  he  grasped  his  friend  heartily 
and  affectionately  by  the  hand. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

AND  thus  was  Kate  Ireton.  Naturally  spirited,  quick,  and  in- 
telligent; but  in  all  acquirement,  utterly  deficient.  She  was 
never  taught,  never  checked ;  but  let  to  run  wild  as  a  little  colt. 
Her  comings  and  goings  weir  as  free  as  those  of  a  bird ;  it  vraa 
only  her  native  tendency  towards  all  that  was  refined  and  in  good 
taste,  which  prevented  her  becoming  coarse.  She  was  unpolished, 
but  she  was  graceful ;  she  was  unconventional,  but  she  was  not 
awkward.  There  was  nothing  rustic  or  rough  about  her,  though 
•he  was  perfectly  easy  and  unconstrained.  No  one  could  have 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  55 

mistaken  her  for  anything  but  a  little  lady,  by  birth  and  habit. 
She  had  delicate  features,  a  blooming  complexion,  a  shape  re- 
markable for  its  beautiful  proportions,  and  a  carriage  instinct 
with  simple  natural  dignity.  She  possessed  perfect  command  of 
limb,  owing  to  the  free  out-of-door  life  of  exercise  and  open  air 
which  she  had  always  led,  and  to  the  single  accomplishment  she 
possessed,  that  of  sitting  a  horse  well — the  only  thing  she  had 
ever  learned  to  do.  Her  frame,  as  her  disposition,  was  self- 
reliant  ;  and  the  untutored  mode  of  her  bringing  up  had  tended 
to  foster,  rather  than  to  abate,  this  original  bent.  Absence  of 
cultivation  had  not  weakened  her  natural  powers,  it  only  threw 
them  upon  their  own  strength  to  develope  for  themselves  their 
resources.  She  was  never  at  a  loss  for  a  prompt  action  or  a 
ready  answer.  Moreover,  from  her  having  lived  exclusively 
among  grown  people,  Kate's  mode  of  expressing  herself  was  not 
only  expertly  forward,  but  forward  for  her  age.  Her  phrase- 
ology often  had  a  turn  not  usual  at  her  years. 

One  fine  afternoon  in  latter  summer  she  had  found  her  way 
down  to  a  favourite  seat  of  hers.  It  was  a  stile,  leading  from 
some  corn-fields  of  her  uncle's,  to  a  shady  lane  that  skirted  them, 
and  wound  away  towards  one  of  the  park-lodges.  Upon  this 
stile  she  would  sit,  watcbiog  the  minnows  as  they  darted  like 
smallest  shadows  of  fish,  hi  and  out  the  weedy  shallows  of  the 
brook,  which  ran  bcnoj>.',h  the  thick,  green  hedge.  Sometimes 
she  would  see  the  sleek  body  of  a  water-rat  dive  noiselessly,  its 
track  marked  only  by  the  air  bubbles  that  rose  from  among  the 
soft  mud  and  ooze  of  the  bank.  Above  her  head  hung  bowery 
nut-trees,  with  ripening  clusters  coyly  peeping  from  among  the 
leaves.  She  was  reaching  up  for  the  one  that  seemed  nearest; 
km  t  ling  on  the  topmost  rail  of  the  stile,  trying  to  balance  her- 
self, and  vainly  leaning  over  into  the  hedge,  endeavouring  to  pull 
towards  her  one  bough  aft  IT  another  until  she  should  drag  down 
die  one  on  which  grew  the  tempting  bunch,  when  she  heard  a 
voice  near  hor  say,  "  You'll  never  manage  it  that  way ! " 

She  looked  hastily  round,  and  saw  a  young  boy,  a  few  year* 
•Ider  than  herself,  seated  on  pony  back,  in  the  lane,  watching  her. 


66  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

He  wore  an  ample,  tasselled  cap,  that  shaded  the  very  hand' 
Borne  eyes  which  looked  up  at  her ;  his  dress  was  a  dark  riding 
suit,  of  rathei  unusual  fashion,  upon  which  fell  a  broad  lace 
collar,  displaying  the  throat,  and  contrasting  with  the  thick  locks 
of  chestnut  hair  which  appeared  beneath  the  cap.  His  whole 
appearance  bespoke  rank,  and  a  certain  natural,  manly  dignity, 
notwithstanding  the  youthful  style  of  his  apparel. 

After  the  first  surprise  of  seeing  a  stranger  there,  and  when 
she  had  looked  for  some  moments  earnestly  at  him,  Kate  re- 
plied, "  I'm  determined  not  to  be  baffled,  I  shall  try  till  I  suc- 
ceed." 

She  renewed  her  efforts,  but  with  as  little  effect  as  before ; 
the  nuts  were  beyond  her  reach.  The  boy  sat  still,  watching 
her ;  and  Kate,  as  she  caught  a  glimpse  of  his  composed  figure, 
and  of  the  expression  which  she  fancied  she  detected  on  his  face, 
felt  provoked  at  the  smiling  superiority  with  which  he  seemed  to 
remain  there. 

"  I'll  hook  it  down  for  you  with  my  riding  whip,"  he  said,  as 
he  moved  his  pony  forward  till  it  stood  close  beside  her. 

"  Let  it  alone  !  "  she  exclaimed  ;  "  I'm  determined  to  get  id 
for  myself." 

"  You're  right  to  persevere,"  he  answered.  "  Here,  let  me 
help  you.  Stand  quite  upright ;  step  on  to  the  top  of  the  stile  ; 
give  me  your  hand,  I'll  hold  you  steady  while  you  reach  up 
for  it." 

"  How  you  order  !  "  she  said.  "  Do  this,  and  do  that ;  step 
up  there,  and  give  me  your  hand  here,  What  right  have  you  to 
dictate  to  me  so  ?  " 

"  Dictate  !     I  suggest,  for  your  own  good." 

"  Ah  !  that's  what  you  dictating  people  always  call  it, — ad- 
vising or  suggesting  for  our  good.  Still,  I  want  the  cluster  of 
nuts,  and  I'll  do  as  you  propose.  Not  that  I  care  for  them, 
for  we  have  finer  in  the  orchard — filberts ;  but  I  don't  choose 
to  bo  disappointed  when  once  I've  set  my  heart  on  obtaining  a 
thing." 

"  Best  not  set  your  heart,  then,  on  anything  too  difficult  to 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  5? 

obtain,  and  then  you'll  run  no  chance  of  disappointment,"  re 
turned  he. 

"  '  Best  not,'  '  best  not ! '  It  may  be  wiser,  perhaps — but  not 
best.  The  best  is  to  succeed  ;  and  the  more  difficult  the  better 
the  success/'  she  replied. 

"  In  a  thing  worth  trying  for — yes,"  said  the  boy.  "  Mere 
gutting  your  own  way  for  getting  your  way's  sake,  is  little ; 
but  to  conquer  in  a  right  matter  is  worth  any  amount  of 
striving." 

"  What  a  preacher  you  are  !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  Who  are 
you  ?  " 

"  No  matter,  just  now.  Do  you  wish  to  get  the  nuts  ? 
That's  the  first  thing  to  consider.  We  can  talk  about  who  I  am 
afterwards,"  he  said,  with  that  quiet  smile  of  his  which  irritated 
her  by  its  composure — a  composure  looking  so  like  gravity,  that 
she  folt  as  if  she  could  not  tell  whether  he  were  really  smiling 
or  not. 

"  More  of  your  ordering  and  dictating  !  "  she  said.  "  You 
settle  what's  to  be  done  first,  and  done  last,  just  as  if  you  were 
master.  However,  I'll  secure  the  nuts'." 

She  climbed  up  and  stood  at  her  full  height,  he  holding  her 
firmly  by  the  hand ;  and  she  gathered  three  or  four  of  the 
bunches.  She  tossed  down  half  of  them  to  him  ;  and  he  sat, 
cracking  his  share,  opposite,  on  pony-back,  looking  up  at  her; 
while  she  ate  hers,  standing  on  the  step  of  the  stile,  and  leaning 
over  its  top  rail. 

•'  Well,  you  haven't  told  me  who  you  are,  yet,"  she  said, 
glancing  curiously  at  his  handsome  face. 

"  You  arc  the  most  amusing  girl  I  ever  met  with,"  he  ex- 
claimed, laughing  ;  "  you  have  the  oddest,  bluntest  manner, — such 
a  whimsical  way  of  speaking  your  mind.  Most  girls  I  have  seen 
have  had  some  timidity,  some  softness  about  them  ;  but  you —  " 
He  hesitated. 

"  I  have  nothing  soft  about  me,  I  suppose  ?  "  she  rejoined. 
4  If  I  am  blunt,  you  are  rude.  All  boys  are  rude,  but  you  are 
the  rudest  I  ever  knew." 


58  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  I  don't  mean  to  be  rude, — I  beg  your  pardon  if  I  have  been 
rude, — I  only  meant  to  speak  the  truth." 

"  As  if  anything  could  be  more  rude  than  to  tell  me  it  is  true 
I  am  a  blunt,  plain  girl,  with  no  softness  about  me  !  " 

"  Stop  !  stop !  now  you  are  not  speaking  truly  in  repeat- 
ing my  words.  I  said  nothing  about  'plain.'  You  are  not 
plain,"  he  said,  laughing,  and  looking  straight  at  her  beautiful 
face. 

"  Pooh  !  you  know  what  I  mean, — plain-spoken." 

"  Well,  plain-spoken,  granted,"  he  returned  ;  "  but  certainly 
\ot  plain, — not  at  all  plain." 

And  assuredly  she  was  not.  Kate  Ireton,  as  she  stood  lean- 
ing over  the  stile,  her  white  arms  carelessly  crossed  on  the  ledge, 
,uer  chin  resting  on  them,  her  dark  blue  eyes  flashing  down  at  his, 
her  full  red  lips  pouting  in  childish  petulance,  her  transparent 
complexion  heightened  and  glowing,  her  bonnet  hanging  loosely 
back  from  her  head,  the  strings  only  just  keeping  it  round  her 
throat,  her  bright  brown  hair  blown  in  curly  disorder  about 
her  face  by  the  summer  air,  formed  a  strikingly  beautiful 
picture. 

"  You  think  to  please  me  by  saying  I  am  not  plain,"  she  said 
disdainfully ;  "  on  the  contrary,  it  is  a  piece  of  impertinence  in 
you — a  boy — a  stranger — to  make  any  remark  at  all  upou  me,  or 
niy  looks;  upon  my  manners,  or  my  face." 

"  You  spoil  the  one  by  the  other,"  he  said  ;  "  you  spoil  your 
sweet  looks  by  your  tart  words.  It's  a  pity." 

*'  And  I  tell  you  you  are  very  impertinent  to  give  any 
opinion  in  the  matter.  If  I  am  plain-spoken,  you  are  un- 
mannerly." 

"  And  why,  if  you  choose  to  be  the  one,  shouldn't  I  have  equal 
right  to  be  the  other?"  he  asked,  in  a  playful  tone. 

"  Oh,  now,  there  you  are  with  your  preaching  again, — right 
and  justice,  and  all  that  kind  of  thing." 

"  Can  you  deny  it  ?  "  he  said. 

She  did  not  answer,  but  kept  looking  at  him  thoughtfully 
Suddenly  she  said,  "  After  all,  you  have  never  told  me  who  you 
are.  What  is  your  name  ?  " 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  59 

"  A  point-blank  question,"  he  replied,  laughisg.  "  Like 
yourself,  plain-spoken, — quite  to  the  purpose.  I'll  answer  you  an 
straightforwardly.  Fermor  Worthington." 

"  Fermor  Worthington !  "  she  echoed,  in  a  tone  of  amaze 
ment.  '•  Whv.  Former  Worthington  is  a  girl.  You  are  no 
girl !  " 

••No,  assuredly,"  he  answered,  gaily.  Then  a  deep  shade 
came  across  the  boy's  open,  handsome  face,  as  he  said  sadly 
"  You  have  heard  of  one  who  is  now  dead.  Had  she  lived,  1 
should  have  had  a  sister  ;  and  I  should  have  loved  to  have  had  a 
sister.  The  first  Fermor  Worthington  died  a  child ;  and  when 
I  was  afterwards  born  to  my  parents,  they  called  me  by  her 
name.  It  is  a  family  one,  and  has  been  used  in  ours  for  both 
boys  and  girls." 

"  And  so  you  are  Fermor  Worthington  !  "  said  Kate,  with  a 
deep-drawn  breath,  as  she  kept  gazing  upon  him  with  a  compli- 
cation of  feelings,  among  which  were  tender  memories,  vague 
fancies,  softened  thoughts,  together  with  that  odd  kind  of  vexed 
consciousness  which  so  often  mingled  with  her  emotions  when 
looking  upon  the  picture  at  Worthington  Court.  Its  breathing 
representative  was  there  before  her ;  the  living  brother,  instead 
of  the  dead  sister,  whose  childish  image  had  stirred  her  heart  with 
so  strange  an  interest. 

"  I  have  seen  a  painting — a  portrait  " — she  began. 

"  Yes — of  her,"  Fermor  said,  in  his  grave,  sweet,  low-toned 
r oice.  u  You  know  Worthington  Court,  then  ? — you  have  been 
there  ?  " 

"  Often,  with  my  nurse,  Matty." 

"  You  must  come  again— often  ;  my  father  and  I  have  just 
returned  home — from  abroad." 

"  *  Must ! '  "  repeated  Kate  ;    "  « must  come  ! '      How  fond 
seem  of  commanding." 

"  And  how  afraid  you  seem  of  being  commanded,"  he  said, 
(iniling.  "  But  you  have  not  told  me  who  you  are ;  I  have  told 
fou  my  name — it  is  but  fair  you  should  tell  me  yours." 

"  '  Fair ! '  "  she  echoed.     "  You  make  everything  an  order, — 


50  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

your  right,  your  due.     But  I  don't  mind  telling  you  my  name 
it  is  Kate  Ireton.     I  am  the  niece  of 'Squire  Heathcote." 

"  I  thought  so  !  I  guessed  who  you  must  be  !  "  he  exclaimed 
"  I  know  your  uncle  very  well — by  what  my  father  has  told  me 
about  him.  They  were  very  intimate  once — before  my  father 
went  to  live  abroad.  They  were  not  only  neighbours,  but  there 
is  a  kind  of  relationship — cousinship — between  the  families,  1 
believe.  I  fancy  you  and  I  may  claim  kindred,  if  we  please." 

"  And  do  you  '  claim  '  it  ?  "  she  said,  with  a  slight  emphasis 
on  the  word. 

He  noticed  it,  and  answered  with  his  quiet  smile,  "  Nay,  I 
would  rather  you  '  pleased  '  to  claim  it." 

She  could  not  withstand  his  manner ;  and  with  a  look  reflect- 
ing his  own,  replied,  "  Since  it  is  the  first  thing  you  have  left  to 
me,  without  any  of  your  favourite  ordering  and  dictating,  I  agree 
to  be  cousins  with  you.  And  as  I  find  you  so  fond  of  sticking 
up  for  might  and  mastery,  and  likely  to  use  your  relationship  by 
ruling  me  with  a  rod  of  iron,  under  pretence  of  right,  and  justice, 
and  truth,  and  so  forth,  I  shall  give  you  a  name  that  will  suit 
you ;  I  think  I  shall  call  you  my  Iron  Cousin." 

"  Do  so,  if  you  will,"  he  returned  ;  "  and  I  shall  use  my  right 
to  call  you — not  plain  cousin  Kate,  but  cousin  Kate,  plainly, 
without  any  ceremonious  '  Miss '  before  the  Christian  name,  as  sc 
plain-spoken  and  unceremonious  a  girl  deserves.  And  now,  you 
will  promise  to  come  soon  to  Worthington  Court  ?  you  will  ask 
your  uncle  to  bring  you  ?  My  father's  health  is  not  strong ;  he 
goes  out  but  seldom.  I  shall  hope,  therefore,  that  your  good 
uncle  will  excuse  form,  and  frequently  come  over  and  see  him, 
as  I  fear  he  will  not  often  be  able  to  reach  so  far  as  Heathcote 
Hall." 

"  But  cannot  you  come  there  yourself,  now  ?  "  she  said ;  "  if 
you  will,  I'll  take  you  to  my  uncle.  I  am  sure  he  will  be  glad 
to  see  you." 

"  Nothing  I  should  like  so  well !  "  he  exclaimed ;  "  I  have 
always  wished  extremely  to  know  the  kind-natured,  hearty  'Squire 
my  father  talked  of." 


THE    "RON    COUSIN.  61 

The  yoiuL  got  off  his  pony,  as  he  spoke  ;  leading  him  by  the 
bridle,  and  walking  by  the  side  of  Kate,  as  they  chatted  on  to 
gather,  proceeding  through  the  lane,  and  up  the  park  avenue,  tc 
the  front  entrance  of  the  old  mansion.  During  their  conversa- 
tion, Kate  learned  that  Fermor  had  been  brought  up  at  a  college 
on  the  continent,  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  spot  fixed  upon  by 
Mr.  Morton  Worthington  as  his. residence,  until  he  should  have 
the  power  of  returning  to  his  patrimonial  English  home.  This 
English  home  had  been  the  secret  object  of  pining  wishes  to  both 
father  and  son.  Fermor  had  lost  his  mother  when  very  young. 
She  was  a  cold,  staid  woman  ;  but  there  was  one  subject  on 
which  she  was  enthusiastic.  This  was  Worthington  Court ;  she 
had  fondly  dwelt  upon  its  beauties  to  her  son,  until  she  had  in- 
spired as  strong  an  affection  towards  the  old  place  in  him  as  she 
felt  herself.  Mr.  Morton  Worthington,  a  man  at  once  proud  and 
sensitive,  strict  in  principle,  austere  in  practice,  and  stern  in  be- 
haviour, yet  profoundly  susceptible;  formed  and  maintained  a 
resolution  never  to  revisit  Worthington  Court,  until  he  returned 
to  it  as  his  own  free  and  unencumbered  possession.  But  his 
wife  obtained  leave,  shortly  before  her  death,  to  take  her  boy  to 
England  with  her  for  a  month  ;  and  the  mother  and  child  spent 
that  period  together  in  the  old  beloved  spot.  It  was  ever  after 
associated  in  Fcnnor's  mind  with  the  happiest  time  he  had  ever 
tipcat ;  the  only  time  he  had  seen  his  mother  unbend  into  tender- 
ness, and  warmth,  and  affectionate  unreserve.  It  became  to  him 
an  image  of  peaceful  seclusion,  of  homo  enjoyments,  of  loving  in- 
tercourse ;  and  his  intcusest  desire  was  directed  towards  the  time 
when  he  and  his  father  were  to  return  thither  for  ever.  Eng- 
land and  Worthington  Court  had  long  been  the  centre  of  Fer- 
mor's  dearest  hopes  and  wishes. 

Something  of  all  this,  Kate  gained  from  what  ho  said ;  for 
Fermor  Worthington  was  a  singular  union  of  frankness  and 
quietude.  He  was  perfectly  candid,  and  had,  at  the  same  time, 
a  firm,  collected  mien,  a  self-possessed  strength  in  his  demeanour, 
arising  from  steadfast  convictions  and  innate  rectitude,  which 
gave  him  the  peculiar  air  that  had  prompted  Kate  Ircton  to  call 


62  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

him  her  "  Iron  Cousin."  These  characteristics  were  perceptibla 
in  Fermor  Worthington  as  a  boy ;  they  were  confirmed,  as  he 
grew  into  manhood. 

When  Kate  Ireton  made  her  appearance  before  her  uncle 
bringing  with  her  her  new-found  relation,  the  'Squire  received 
them  in  his  own  hearty  manner ;  giving  Fermor  a  cordial  wel- 
come at  once,  and  a  warm  invitation  to  come,  whenever  he  pleased, 
to  Heathcote  Hall.  He  himself  promised  to  ride  over  to  Wor- 
thington Court  without  delay,  that  the  old  acquaintance  between 
himself  and  his  good  friend  Morton  might  be  renewed  ;  rejoiced 
that  the  long  exile — self-imposed  by  filial  duty  and  manly  pro- 
bity— being  now  over,  permitted  his  exceLfcnt  friend  Morton  and 
himself  once  again  to  be  the  good  neighbours  they  were  formerly  ; 
entered  with  glee  into  the  rightful  establishment  of  the  cousin- 
ship  ;  and  congratulated  the  young  people  and  himself  upon  this 
pleasant  family  re-union. 

"  Tell  my  good  friend,  your  father,  my  dear  young  sir,  that 
Kate  and  I  will  ride  over  the  first  thing  after  breakfast  to-morrow 
to  see  him.  Give  him  my  best  regards,  and  tell  him  so  from  me. 
my  dear  young  Mr.  Fermor." 

"  Do  you  treat  me  so  formally,  sir  ?  Are  we  not  all  cousins  ?  " 
said  Fermor  Worthington. 

"  True,  true,  my  good  young  gentleman — cousin,  I  should 
say.  But  remember,  we  of  the  old  school  are  apt  to  be  a  little 
formal,  till  we  know  people  well.  I  feel  that  you  and  I  shall 
soon  know  each  other  well — quite  well — and  then  we'll  be  as  fa- 
miliar as  you  please,"  said  the  'Squire,  putting  his  hand  upon  the 
lad's  shoulder. 

"  The  more  familiarly  you  treat  me,  the  better  I  shall  think 
of  myself,  sir,"  said  Fermor,  as  he  looked  his  sense  of  the 
'Squire's  kindly  manner.  "  It  will  teach  me  to  hope  I  may  de- 
serve your  friendship.  Friendship  is  a  voluntary  thing,  you 
know  ;  relationship  is  settled  for  us.  Nevertheless,  I  am  obliged 
to  Fate  for  having  made  me  a  relative  of  yours,  and  of  my  cousin 
Kate." 

"  That's  a  very  civil  speech,  for  the  unmannerly  iron  cousin!" 
•aid  she.  "Pity  he's  not  always  so  complaisant." 


THE    IRON    COCSIN.  61 

"  I  am  never  complaisant  at  the  expense  of  truth,"  he  said 
*  Civil  speeches  should  come  from  feeling,  or  they  are  but  flat- 
tery." 

"  People  may  be  decently  polite,  without  flattery,"  returned  she. 

"  Sincerity  between  relations  is  even  better  than  politeness," 
said  Fermor. 

"  There's  no  need  to  be  a  bear,  because  one's  a  cousin,"  she 
retorted. 

"  Certainly ;  cousins  arc  human  beings,  not  brutes,"  replied 
he.  "  We  shall  never  be  brutal  to  each  other,  I  hope." 

"  I  was  not  speaking  of  behaviour  between  us ;  I  was  speak- 
ing of  yours  to  me,"  said  Kate. 

"  Which  I  trust  was  not  brutal — only  honest,"  he  replied. 
'  I  told  you  honestly  what  I  thought  of  you  ;  and  I  believe  you 
were  quite  as  frank  with  me." 

"  I've  no  objection  to  honesty  ;  be  as  honest,  as  frank  as  you 
please ;  you  can't  be  too  much  so,  to  please  me.  What  I  find 
fault  with  is  your  perpetual  ordering  and  commanding  ;  as  if  you 
were  always  right,  and  others  were  always  wrong.  You  not  only 
told  me  what  you  thought  of  me,  but  what  I  ought  to  be — what 
I  ought  to  do." 

"  It  is  part  of  my  honesty,  I  suppose,"  he  answered.  "  When 
I  see  what  I  wish  to  be,  and  what  I  think  should  be,  and  might 
hf,  I  am  apt  to  say  so,  openly." 

''  Yes,  you  are  for  trying  everything  and  everybody  by  your 
st.ict  notions;  and  ruling  them  according  to  your  sovereign  will 
and  pleasure — a  true  iron  cousin." 

"  Well,  I  lay  my  sovereign  commands  on  you  now,  not  to  for- 
get your  promise  to  be  with  us  to-morrow  by  an  early  hour,"  he 
said,  as  he  rose  to  take  leave. 

•  My  uncle's  promise,  not  mine,"  she  replied.  "  As  his  I  en- 
gage to  perform  my  share  of  it." 

"  Not  unwillingly,  I  hope?"  he  said,  smiling. 

"  Oh,  no  !  I  want  very  much  to  see  your  father — Mr.  Morton 
Worth  in  trton.  I  have  often  heard  him  described;  and  I'm  curi- 
jus  to  sc<-  whether  my  nurse  Matty  i-  a  good  portrait-painter." 


64  THE   IRON   C017S3T. 

u  What  kind  of  picture  did  she  draw  !  "  asked  Fermor. 

"  That  of  a  stately,  stilted  gentleman  ;  standing  high  on  hil 
goodness,  and  holding  his  head  up  on  his  principle,"  she  re- 
plied ;  "in  short,  just  what  the  iron  cousin's  father  would  be  like- 
ly to  be." 

"  He  has  good  right  to  stand  erect,  who  never  stooped  to  an 
unworthy  thought,  word,  or  deed,"  said  the  son,  earnestly.  "  When 
you  see  him,  you  will  find  that  the  likeness  is  faithful,  and  under- 
stand how  it  is  so.  My  father's  air  is  dignified,  because  his  char 
acter  is  noble." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

NEXT  day,  the  morning  was  farther  advanced  than  the  good  'Squire 
could  have  wished,  when  he  and  his  niece  drew  bridle  at  Wor- 
thington  Court.  From  some  inexplicable  whim  of  perverseuess, 
Kate  had  contrived,  by  one  frivolous  pretext  or  other,  to  delay 
the  time  of  setting  out,  from  hour  to  hour,  until  far  beyond  that 
intended  by  her  uncle  ;  so  that,  when  they  reached  the  old  man- 
sion, they  were  informed  by  the  servant  who  took  their  horses, 
that  Mr.  Worthington  was  receiving  some  guests  who  had  arrived 
that  morning,  and  that  the  whole  party  were  assembled  at  lunch, 
in  the  dining-room.  As  his  niece  and  himself  were  being  ushered 
thither,  the  'Squire  learned  that  these  guests  were  no  other  than  the 
Whites,  of  Eggham  Park  ;  and  on  entering  the  apartment,  there 
was  a  pale  shadowy -looking  lady,  seated  on  one  side  of  the  table ; 
next  to  her  a  younger  duplicate  of  herself,  with  the  addition  of 
long  flaxen  curls  ;  and  opposite  to  them,  an  ultra-florid  little  gen- 
tleman. But  the  'Squire  saw  no  one,  for  the  moment,  but  his  old 
friend,  Morton  Worthington,  whom  he  had  always  revered  as  a 
being  infinitely  superior,  in  every  moral  and  mental  endowment, 
to  himself.  His  modest  self-estimation  made  him  think  the  in 
timacy  which,  had  subsisted  between  them,  a  generous  condescen 
eion  on  the  part  of  so  wise,  so  good  a  young  man  as  Morton  Wor 


THE   IRON    COUSIN.  65 

thington ;  and  his  regard  for  him  was  heightened  by  a  sort  of 
venerating  gratitude,  that  he  should  permit  the  equality  of  friend 
ship  between  them.  The  truth  was,  there  had  been  a  mutual  es 
teem  and  liking,  but  little  real  confidence.  Mr.  Morton  was  ha 
bitually  reserved  ;  and  the  'Squire  was  simple-hearted  and  simple 
minded.  Harry  Heathcote  had  not  the  slightest  idea  that  a  large 
portion  of  Morton's  liking  for  the  brother,  arose  from  the  secret 
overwhelming  passion  he  cherished,  in  spite  of  his  own  will,  foi 
his  sister.  No  suspicion  that  the  cold-seeming,  scholarly  Mr 
Worthington  thought  of  Hetty  otherwise  than  as  a  gay,  thoaght 
less  girl — pretty,  but  too  childish  to  interest  so  wise  and  clever  a 
young  gentleman — ever  crossed  the  mind  of  the  unobservant 
'Squire.  He  knew  that  Morton  admired  her ;  and  fancied  that 
he  tolerated  her  light  trifling,  in  consideration  of  her  youth  and 
blooming  looks ;  but  be  dreamed  not  that  these  caprices  made  the 
misery  of  the  proud  student's  life ;  that  this  youthful  bloom  en- 
thralled him  beyond  the  power  of  his  stern  resistance.  Morton 
Worthington's  existence  had  been  one  continued  haughty  contest 
with  inclination  and  circumstance.  He  had  been  rejected  by  the 
young  girl  whom  he  passionately  loved,  against  his  better  reason 
and  judgment;  and  in  order  to  conceal  the  anguish  of  mortifica 
tion,  as  well  as  to  punish  himself  for  the  weakness  which  he  dis- 
daincil,  and  resented  having  yielded  to,  he  hastily  married  a  wo- 
man  for  whom  he  had  no  affection,  but  whom  he  knew  to  possesr 
prudence,  steady  principle,  and  a  formed  character — exactly  those 
qualities  lacking  in  Henrietta  Heathcote.  But  the  wound  was 
only  scared  over  ;  it  never  healed.  To  this  secret  torture  was 
added  the  gall  and  bitterness  of  discovering,  on  his  father's  death, 
that  decay  of  fortune,  and  heavy  debt,  and  threatened  loss  of  his 
patrimonial  state,  stared  him  in  the  face.  His  pride  of  resolution, 
however,  enabled  him  to  preserve  a  show  of  stoic  indifference  to 
the  world  :  and  ho  repaired  abroad,  silently  and  privately  to  con- 
tend  with  his  disappointments  as  he  best  might,  and  to  look  for 
ward  with  the  single  hope  of  returning,  at  some  future  day,  to  re 
eovered  wealth  and  case,  if  not  happiness. 

While  the  'Squire  hurried  forward,  in  his  own  cordial,  heart j 


B6  THE    IRON    COTJSUM. 

manner,  to  greet  his  old  friend,  and  interchange  a  hundred  ques 
tions  and  replies  in  a  breath,  Kate  had  plenty  of  time  to  make 
her  own  observations  on  the  appearance  of  Mr.  Morton  Wonth- 
ington  ;  but  not  until  she  had  perceived,  with  a  feeling  of  vexed 
surprise,  that  nis  son,  Fermor,  was  not  there 

Presently,  her  uncle  turned  to  her,  as  he  said  to  his  friend  : 
"  But  I  have  not  shown  you  my  Kate  yet.  Come  hither,  Kate  ! 
I  want  my  good  friend  to  see  what  a  treasure  I  have — bachelor 
as  I  am.  You,  Morton,  have  your  son,  Fermor — a  fine  boy,  a 
noble,  well-spoken  lad — a  fine  fellow,  indeed  !  But  I  have  my 
pride  and  joy,  too — my  Kate,  my  niece,  bless  her  !  Where  are 
you,  Kate  ?  Come  hither  !  " 

Kate  came  forward,  at  her  uncle's  bidding,  and  stood  beside 
him ;  while  he,  eagerly  taking  off  the  broad  beaver  hat  she  wore, 
which  somewhat  shaded  her  features,  said :  "  Hetty's  daugh- 
ter ! " 

As  the  young  head  stood  revealed  fully  to  his  view,  the  mar- 
ble face  of  Mr.  Morton  "Worthington  moved  not  a  jot ;  but  he 
turned  to  the  table,  poured  himself  out  a  tumbler  of  water,  and  drank 
it,  ere  he  said,  with  a  forced  smile  :  "  You  are  indeed  fortunate, 
'Squire,  in  possessing  so  fair  a  young  lady,  to  be  to  you  as  a 
child." 

"  Do  you  find  her  like  her  mother  ?  I  see  a  strong  resem- 
blance myself;  but  I  am  curious  to  know  what  you  think,  who 
knew  Hetty,"  said  the  good  'Squire. 

Mr.  Morton  Worthington  sat  down.  He  had  risen  from  his 
chair  to  receive  the  'Squire,  when  the  latter  entered,  and  had 
since  remained  standing,  answering  the  various  hurried  ejacula- 
tions and  inquiries  poured  forth  by  his  warm-hearted  friend.  As 
he  resumed  his  seat,  he  attempted  some  muttered  allusion  to  his 
having  grown  infirm  since  they  last  met ;  but  the  words  died  off 
unspoken,  and  there  was  a  pause.  The  'Squire  thought  he  waa 
about  to  reply  to  his  last  question,  and  waited  patiently,  turning 
Kate's  beaver  hat  round  and  round  in  his  hand,  with  his  eyes 
alternately  fixed  upon  her  face  and  Mr.  Worthington's. 

But  when  that  gentleman  next  spoke,  it  was  to  address  Mrs. 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  .  67 

White,  offering  her  some  of  the  sweets  upon  the  table,  begging 
her  to  resume  her  luncheon,  and  offering  some  to  the  newly- 
arrived  visitors  :  at  the  same  time  introducing  all  his  guests  to 
each  other. 

The  conversation  became  general,  or  rather,  Mrs.  White  be- 
pm  a  long  interlocution  with  the  'Squire,  in  which  she  explained 
to  him  that  Mrs.  Mustley  having  been  advised  by  her  medical 
man  to  pay  a  visit  to  the  sea-side,  the  old  lady  had  left  Eggham 
Park  for  Weymouth  last  week ;  which  gave  Mr.  White  and  her- 
self the  opportunity  they  were  most  eager  for,  of  coming  to 
wit-nine  their  excellent  friend,  Mr.  Worthington,  on  his  return 
from  abroad  ;  then  she  branched  off  into  a  by-dissertation  on  the 
equal  connection  that  existed  between  themselves,  the  Whites, 
and  the  two  families  of  Heathcote  and  Worthington  ;  then  ensued 
an  episodical  narration  of  the  virtues  and  accomplishments  which 
distinguished  her  dear  daughter,  Alicia,  who  was — though  she 
said  it,  that  shouldn't  say  it — the  very  dearest  and  most  exem- 
plary girl  that  ever  breathed  ;  that  she  considered  herself  the 
most  fortunate  of  mothers,  and  Mr.  White  the  most  fortunate  of 
fathers,  to  be  blessed  with  such  a  child. 

Miss  White  was  preparing  melon  for  Mr.  Morton  Worthing- 
ton;  requesting  to  know  precisely  what  quantity  of  sugar  he 
liked  sprinkled  over  it,  entreating  he  would  tell  her  whether  he 
preferred  popper  with  it,  or  whether  he  choose  it  quite  simply; 
and,  while  ministering  to  his  palate,  engaging  him  with  small- 
talk  with  the  most  amiably  insinuating  manner  conceivable. 

Mr.  White  was  immersed  in  the  occult  dressing,  and  subsc- 
ijm -nt  inirlutition,  of  a  lobster,  the  colour  of  which  was  shamed 
by  the  flaming  scarlet  of  his  face,  up  to  the  very  roots  of  his  hair ; 
while  his  eyes  emulated  those  of  the  shell-fish,  by  their  startling 
blaok  protrusion. 

Kate  drew  a  chair  to  her  uncle's  side,  and  under  the  shelter 
of  iiin  conversation  with  Mrs.  White,  sat  silently  eating  her 
ehieken  and  jelly,  wondering  within  herself  what  could  have  be- 
come of  Fennor  Worthington,  and  how  it  was  ho  did  not  make 
kia  appearance.  "  Why  shouldn't  I  ask  for  him,  and  inquire  how 


68  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

it  is  he's  not  here  ?  "  at  length  she  thought.  No  sooner  had  sde 
asked  this  question,  than  she  said  aloud  :  "  Where  is  your  son, 
Mr.  Worthington  ?  "We  expected  to  see  him  this  morning.  He 
begged  my  uncle  to  come  over,  and  to  bring  me  with  him  :  it  is 
strange  he  is  not  here  to  receive  us.  Is  he  not  at  home  ?  M 

Her  voice,  fearless  and  unabashed,  but  full  and  musical  in  its 
tone,  rang  clear  above  those  of  the  other  speakers,  as  she  ad- 
dressed this  question  to  the  master  of  the  house,  sitting  at  the 
Head  of  his  table. 

He  perceptibly  started ;  but  he  answered  composedly,  with- 
out looking  towards  her  :  "  Fermor  is  gone  out,  young  lady.  I 
Bent  him  over  to  Dingleton,  upon  a  commission  which  could  not 
ve  delayed." 

"  Yes,  my  Alicia  left  her  parasol  at  the  inn  where  the  post- 

jrses  baited,  and  our  kind  host  gallantly  insisted  that  his  own 

ion  should  go  in  search  of  it,  instead  of  a  servant.     It  is  not 

jvery  youth  who  would  be  so  assiduous,  but  young  Mr.  Fermor 

is  one  of  a  thousand,  we  all  know  !  "  prosed  Mrs.  White. 

"  Fermor  does  as  I  tell  him,  madam,"  said  Mr.  Morton  Well- 
ington. 

"  Very  proper,  of  course,"  said  Mrs.  White.  "  All  joung  peo- 
ple should  learn  to  do  as  they  are  told." 

"  Is  it '  very  proper '  to  tell  a  boy  to  ride  twenty  miles  for  a 
parasol  ?  Is  it '  very  proper  '  to  let  him  do  so,  when  a  girl  has 
oeen  so  forgetful  as  to  leave  something  behind  her  that  she  de- 
serves to  lose  for  her  pains  ?  "  said  Kate. 

"  Hey-dey,  young  lady !  I'm  afraid  our  good  friend,  the 
'Squire,  has  spoiled  you  not  a  little,  to  reason  with  your  elders 
and  betters,  in  that  smart  fashion,"  said  Mr.  White,  looking  up. 
for  the  first  time,  from  jis  plate. 

"  Are  elders  always  betters  ?  "  returned  Kate.  "  Why  shouldn't 
they  be  asked  plain  questions  as  well  as  any  one  else  ?  " 

"  It  isn't  becoming  in  young  ladies  to  question  and  argue," 
said  Mrs.  White.  "  I'm  sure  my  Alicia  knows  better  than  to  think 
of  such  a  thing." 

"  How  long  has  your  son  been  gone,  sir  ? "  said  Kate,  again 


TI1E    IRON    COUSIN.  69 

directing  her  words  to  Mr.  Wortbington;  "  do  you  think  he  will 
be  back  soon  ?  " 

"  Very  probably  he  may,"  answered  Mr.  Worthington,  still 
looking  away  from  her  as  he  spoke.  He  kept  his  eyes  steadily 
averted  from  the  young  girl's  face.  He  had  only  once  permitted 
himself  to  glance  towards  her,  after  the  first  sight  of  her  counte- 
nance ;  it  was  while  she  was  occupied  in  eating  her  lunch;  he  had 
then,  for  one  instant,  looked  at  her  keenly,  intently,  though  steal- 
thily ;  but  from  that  time  he  preserved  his  fixed  avoidance. 

"  I  say,  'Squire,"  said  Mr.  White,  filling  himself  out  a  bumper 
of  wine,  "  allow  me  to  drink  your  very  good  health,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  to  ask  you  how  you  think  it  right  to  encourage  your 
niece  to  be  so  bold  and  up-spoken  in  company  ?  It  isn't  the  fash 
ion  for  young  ladies  now-a-days,  to  do  anything  else  than  sit  still 
and  say  nothing,  until  they're  spoken  to,  and  then  answer  discreetly 
and  modestly.  If  you  go  on  spoiling  her,  as  you  seem  to  have 
done,  she'll  never  do  you  any  credit — never  be  a  pattern  young 
lady  !  You'll  excuse  my  freedom ;  but  we're  all  friends ;  and  I 
really  feel  anxious  that  your  adopted  daughter  should  do  you  credit, 
for  her  own  sake  as  well  as  for  yours." 

"  My  excellent  Mr.  White,  pray  make  no  apology  for  speaking 
out  freely ;  I  take  it  kind  of  you,  on  the  contrary,  to  tell  us  your 
mind,  for  our  good,  as  you  think  it,"  said  the  'Squire.  "  But,  io 
the  first  place,  I  don't  know  that  I  care  much  to  see  my  Kate  a 
pattern  young  lady — it  would  be  too  much  trouble  for  her  and  for 
me ;  and  as  long  as  she  is  not  insolent,  and  hurts  no  one's  feelings, 
what  does  it  signify  that  she  should  speak  up  boldly,  and  without 
any  mock  modesty,  her  thoughts  and  her  wishes  ?  As  for  spoiling 
her — "  and  here  the  'Squire  fidgeted  a  little  on  his  chair,  but  soon 
sank  back  into  it  quietly  and  passively — "  as  for  spoiling  her,  why, 
perhaps  I  do,  a  little;  but,  you  must  know,  I  have  my  reasons — 
1  have  my  reasons." 

"  Reasons,  my  dear  sir  1 "  began  Mrs.  White. 
"  My  love,  allow  me,"  interrupted  Mr.  White.      "  Reasons, 
'Squire'"  he  exclaimed,  turning  to  him  again;  "can  reason  be 
pleaded  in  so  unreasonable  a  proceeding  as  spoiling  a  young  cre»- 
lure  entrusted  to  our  care  ?" 


7C  TRE   IRON    COUSIN. 

"My  worthy  Mr.  "White — my  good  sir,"  said  the  'Squire ;  "  if 
you  knew  all,  you  might  perhaps  allow  that  I  have  very  sufficient 
reason  for  a  little  over-indulgence  in  the  case  of  my  niece,  Kate." 
His  voice  changed  from  the  placid  equanimity  it  had  hitherto  ob- 
served, as  he  added:  "  Her  mother  was  killed  by  severity — killed  ; 
and  I  took  a  vow  by  her  dead  face  that  her  child  should  mver 
know  a  harsh  word  or  look  from  me.  I  have  kept  my  oath ;  and 
perhaps  this  may  account  for  my  Katey  being  not  quite  so  prim 
and  orderly  as  she  should  be.  But  all  in  good  time — all  in  good 
time.  She's  young  yet,  thank  God !  " 

Mr.  Morton  Worthington,  for  all  the  infirmity  of  which  he 
complained,  had  got  up  and  walked  to  the  window,  where  he  stood, 
with  his  arms  folded  upon  his  chest,  his  back  towards  those  pres- 
ent, his  face  looking  out  upon  the  terrace,  with  a  blank  regard. 

'•  Dear,  dear ! — we  were  not  aware — we  heard  there  was  a  sad 
story,  but  the  particulars  were  not  known  to  us,"  commenced  Mrs. 
White. 

"  My  love,  allow  me,"  interposed  Mr.  White.  "Under  such 
peculiar  circumstances  as  you  have  hinted  at,  my  good  sir,  and  for 
which  we  are,  of  course,  too  delicate  to  press  farther,  great  allow- 
ance is  to  be  made;  of  course,  great  allowance." 

"  Yes,  great  allowance  should  be  made  for  Kateyv"  said  the 
'Squire.  "  By  and  bye  we'll  think  about  proprieties,  and  knick- 
knacks,  and  reading  and  writing,  and  stitchery,  and  such  like 
things,  that  girls  must  be  taught,  one  time  or  other,  I  suppose," 
Baid  the  'Squire,  with  a  sigh. 

"  Why,  surely,  my  dear  sir,  you  don't  mean  to  say   that " 

Mrs.  White  began. 

"  Permit  me,  my  love,"  said  Mr.  White.  "  My  good  'Squire, 
you  will  understand  me  to  speak  solely  as  a  friend  and  connection 
of  yours,  and  therefore  with  pardonable  freedom,  if  I  observe  that 
your  country-gentleman  experience,  and  old  world  breeding,  scarce- 
ly fits  you  to  be  a  competent  judge  of  what  is  expected  now-a-days 
from  a  young  lady  of  your  niece's  years.  If,  as  I  deduce  from 
what  you  let  drop  just  now,  Miss  Kate  is  actually  uninstructcd  in 
given  the  very  earliest  branches  of  education,  I  assure  you,  you  ar* 


THE    IRON   COI  71 

wrong  in  omitting  to  provide  her  immediately  with  means  of  reme- 
dying this  defect.  If  she  be  permitted  to  grow  up,  thus  neglected, 
when  she  reaches  an  nee  to  understand  her  deficiencies,  take  my 
word  for  it,  she  herself  will  be  the  very  first  to  reproach  you  for 
your  irreparable  omis.sion, — your  fatal  over-indulgence." 

"  How  littk-  you  know  me  !  "  exclaimed  Kate  indignantly.  "  I 
reproach  uncle  !  Not  if  he  had  done  me  the  greatest  of  injuries, 
instead  of  making  all  my  life  happy.  I  should  be  the  most  un- 
grateful of  girls,  so  much  as  to  think  a  reproach  towards  uncle." 

•  .My  dear  young  miss,"  replied  Mr.  White,  with  a  supercil- 
ious smile,  "  I  see  that  you  totally  misconceive  me,  though  that  is 
scarcely  to  be  wondered  at;  but  what  I  would  say  is,  that  even 
were  you  hereafter  to  upbraid  your  uncle  with  his  having  failed  to 
provide  you  proper  instruction,  the  reproach,  far  from  deserving 
the  name  of  ingratitude,  would  be  only  just  and  due." 

'•  Impossible!"  ejaculated  Kate. 

"  I  repeat,"  resumed  Mr.  White,  after  a  slight  wave  of  the 
hand,  as  deprecating  her  interruption,  "  that  such  a  reproach  would 
be  but  just  and  due,  a  merely  proper  resentment  of  his  irretrieva- 
ble wrongs  towards  her." 

"  Wrongs  !  ridiculous  !  "  burst  from  Kate. 

••  My  •_'  iod  young  miss,  you  are  wholly  incapable  of  estimat- 
ing the  force  of  my  meaning.  I  cannot  wonder  at  it,  ignorant  as 
you,  alas  !  are ;  but  one  day,  when  too  late,  you  will  remember 
my  words,  and  comprehend  their  truth." 

"  Never  !  "  exclaimed  Kate.  "  I  shall  never  find  out  that  it's 
right  to  blame  uncle." 

"  Deaf  to  rational  argument !  blind  to  the  most  lucid  demon- 
stration, poor  child  !  "  said  Mr.  White,  in  a  pitying  tone,  and 
making  a  motion  with  his  hands,  as  though  ho  gave  up  the  hope- 
less task  of  parleying  with  one  utterly  unable  to  appreciate  his 
powerful  oratory. 

•'  You  think  I  ought  to  have  Kate  taught;  that  I  should 

some  one  to  give  her  lessons;  to  see  that  she  Icarus 

something,"    said    the    'Squire,    hesitatingly ;    "  perhaps  you're 

right,  my  good  Mr.  White.     Between  us,  I  fear.  K at     and  I  have 


72  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

made  the  mistake  of  thinking  .only  how  to  enjoy  life  together 
instead  of  recollecting  that  there  must  be  some  trouble,  and  some 
worrying,  with  books  and  such  things,  to  live  as  we  ought  to  do, 
I  suppose." 

"  Assuredly,  my  good  sir,  undoubtedly,"  said  Mr.  White, 
briskly  renewing  his  discourse.  "  You  should  engage  a  good 
governess.  My  wife  will,  I  am  sure,  have  the  greatest  pleasure 
in  writing  to  some  one  of  her  large  circle  of  acquaintance  in 
town,  desiring  them  to  secure  for  you,  without  delay,  a  fashion- 
able finishing  governess,  who  will  make  up  for  lost  time  with  our 
young  friend  here,  and  render  her  shortly  an  accomplished,  well- 
mannered,  presentable  young  lady,  who  will  do  credit  to  you  and 
to  herself.'1 

"  You  are  very  good,  very  obliging,  my  worthy,  excellent 
Mr.  White,"  faltered  the  'Squire ;  "  but,  but — there's  no  hurry— 
we'll  see  about  it — I'll  think,  I'll  consider  of  it,  before  you  give 
your  good  lady  the  trouble  to  write  for  a  governess  for  my  Kate. 
I'll  think  of  it,  I'll  think  of  it,  thank  you." 

Just  then,  the  grave  deep  voice  of  Mr.  Worthington  was 
heard  to  say,  "  Here's  Fermor ! "  and  presently  Fermor  appeared 
at  the  foot  of  the  terrace,  giving  his  horse  to  a  servant ;  and  then 
came  rapidly  up  the  flight  of  steps  leading  to  the  level  space  upon 
which  the  dining-room  windows  opened. 

"  If  you  were  to  unfasten  that  window  near  you,  sir,"  said 
Kate,  in  her  clear,  penetrating  tone,  "  he  could  come  in  at  once, 
instead  of  going  round." 

Mr.  Worthington  again  gave  the  slight  involuntary  start 
which  the  sound  of  that  ringing,  silver-pure  voice  (the  very  echo 
of  one  that  had  never  ceased  to  haunt  his  memory),  distinctly 
addressing  him,  had  before  produced,  but  he  gave  no  other  token 
of  having  heard  her  speak.  Kate  Ireton  stepped  forward,  stood 
close  beside  him,  and  herself  undid  the  fastening  of  the  folding- 
window. 

"  We  are  here  !  my  uncle  is  here  I  "  said  she. 

Fermor  advanced  eagerly.  As  he  approached  the  window, 
he  observed  his  father ;  raising  his  hat,  and  entering  the  room. 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  73 

he  addressed  his  first  words  to  him  :  "  I  have  recovered  the  lost 
parasol,  sir ;  it  was  left  at  the  previous  stage  to  Dingleton ;  so  I 
rode  on  there  at  once,  and  brought  it  away  with  me." 

"  Very  well,"  said  his  father. 

Mrs.  White  pressed  forward  to  overwhelm  Fermor  with  thanks 
and  apologies,  while  Alicia  dropped  a  curtsey  that  would  have 
done  her  dancing-master's  heart  good  to  see,  as  she  received  the 
parasol  from  his  hands. 

"  Is  '  very  well '  all  that  you  have  to  say  to  your  son  when 
he  has  done  what  you  desire,  sir?"  asked  Kate  of  Mr.  Worthing- 
ton,  as  she  remained  near  to  him. 

"  What  should  I  say  more  ?  "  replied  he. 

"  Don't  you  think  he  deserves  praise  for  obeying  you,  for 
doing  even  more  than  you  desired  ?"  said  Kate,  earnestly.  <:  He 
rode  on  in  the  dust  and  heat  to  the  stage  beyond  Dingleton,  when 
no  found  that  what  you  hud  sent  him  for  was  not  there.  Doesn't 
that  deserve  something  more  than  '  very  well  ?  ' ' 

"  lie  knew  my  object  in  sending  him  ;  he  knew  that  I  should 
lie  displeased  if  he  returned  without  effecting  it,"  said  Mr. 
Wnrthington. 

"  And  he  did  effect  it,"  returned  Kate.  "  Were  you  not 
pleased  ?  " 

"  I  was  satisfied,"  replied  Mr.  Worthingtou.     He  spoke  as 
if  with  effort.     While  Kate  was  close  to  him,  he  seemed  op- 
-'•d,  constrained,  unable  to  look,  move,  or  breathe  freely. 

Ferraor  had  exchanged  cordial  greetings  with  the  'Squire, 
and  now  came  towards  Kate,  saying,  "  Will  you  come  and 
pay  :i  visit  to  your  old  favourite,  the  picture  ?  You  made  ac- 
([iiaijitance  with  it  before  you  knew  any  of  us;  and  it  is  bufc 
fair  that  your  new  friends  should  not  make  you  forget  your 
old  ones." 

<;  No  fear  of  their  doing  that,  good  iron  cousin.  All  the  new 
friends  ami  new  relations  in  the  world  would  never  put  my  uncle 
or  nurse.  Matty  out  of  my  head,"  she  replied,  with  a  spice  of  the 
contrariety  which  always  took  possession  of  her  in  connection 
with  that  portrait  ;'  and  \\\i\f\\,  indeed,  was  too  apt,  generally.  '* 
4 


74  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

actuate  her  conduct  and  speech.  Boundless  indulgence,  unbal 
anced  by  wise  admonition,  generates  a  wayward  impulse  to  say 
ungracious  and  unwelcome,  rather  than  agreeable  or  compliment 
ary  things  ;  and  Kate  had,  moreover,  an  innate  horror  of  any 
thing  like  flattery  or  affectation,  which  frequently  caused  her  to 
err  on  the  side  of  bluntness,  from  sheer  dread  of  seeming  false. 
She  often  bordered  on  the  verge  of  incivility,  not  from  any  wish 
to  be  rude,  but  from  an  instinctive  avoidance  of  any  shadow  of 
simulation. 

"  What  is  that  you  say  about  a  picture,  Mr.  Fermor  ?"  said 
Mrs.  White.  "  My  Alicia,  for  so  young  a  girl,  is  a  wonderful 
judge  of  painting  ;  but  no  wonder,  either,  for  she  paints  more 
than  tolerably  herself  already,  I  assure  you.  The  cat  she  did 
upon  velvet,  the  other  day,  for  a  footstool  for  Mrs.  Mustley,  and 
the  basket  of  flowers  she  coloured  in  poonah,  for  an  urn-rug  as  a 
present  to  her  godmother,  Lady  Niggle,  were,  I  assure  you, 
quite  beautiful.  I  hope,  if  you  are  going  to  look  at  any  family 
pictures,  my  Alicia  may  accompany  you  and  Miss  Ireton  ;  she 
will  be  delighted  to  see  them  with  you.  Go,  Alicia,  my  dear." 

And  the  three  young  people  left  the  room  together. 


CHAPTER     IX. 

>VHEM  they  entered  the  morning  parlour  so  well  remembered  by 
Kate  Ireton,  she  was  going  straight  to  her  wonted  corner,  the  old- 
fashioned  chintz  settee  in  the  recess,  opposite  to  which  the  pic- 
ture hung,  when  she  suddenly  drew  back,  and  gave  place  to  Alicia 
White,  who  advanced  in  front  of  the  painting,  and  fell  into  ecsta- 
cies  about  the  dear  lovely  face,  the  sweet  pretty  attitude,  the 
darling  white  frock,  the  exquisite  portrait  altogether.  She  ex- 
patiated to  Fermor  on  the  extraordinary  likeness  between  him 
self  and  his  sister  ;  uttered  sentimental  speeches  of  regret  at  his 
shocking  loss,  but  supposed  that  as  it  had  h'appcned°before  ho 


TIIK    IKON    COUSIN.  73 

was  born,  he  had  not  felt  it  very  deeply ;  and  in  short,  talked  a 
great  deal  of  fluent  propriety  and  prettincss,  during  which,  Kate 
[reton  stood  aloof,  looking  at  the  worked  parrot  with  the  twin 
rherries  hanging  from  his  beak,  the  embroidered  sampler,  and 
the  gaping,  new-caught  fish. 

As  Miss  White  stooped  to  examine  one  of  the  two  groups  of 
family-miniatures  that  hung  on  each  side  of  the  fire-place,  be- 
neath the  other  picture,  Ferinor  Worthington  came  over  to  where 
Kate  was  still  standing,  and  said : — "  I  wanted  you  to  have 
looked  at  that  picture  with  me,  by  ourselves  ;  but  another  day, 
perhaps,  we  shall  have  a  better  opportunity.  I  could  not  refuse 
Mrs.  White  to  let  Alicia  come  with  us." 

"  You  were  quite  right.  Besides,  I  know  the  picture  by 
heart ;  no  need  for  me  to  look  at  it."  She  turned  away  as  she 
spoke,  and  went  towards  a  door  that  led  into  the  adjoining  apart- 
ment, which  was  the  library. 

''  Do  you  like  that  room  ?  It  is  my  favourite  room,  in  the 
whole  house,"  said  Fermor,  following  her. 

';  I  don't  know  that  it's  my  favourite ;  but  I  used  to  like  to 
come  here,  and  watch  the  shadows  of  the  leaves,  as  they  danced 
and  fluttered  upon  the  shining  oak  floor,"  said  Kate.  "  I  used 
to  sit  and  ponder  all  sorts  of  fairy  fancies,  while  I  saw  those 
twinklcrs  running  in  and  out,  skipping  to  and  fro,  crossing,  and 
crowding,  and  huddling  together." 

"  Did  you  love  those  leaves  ?  I  could  tell  you  some  odd 
whims  of  my  own  about  those  same  leaves,"  said  Fermor,  smiling. 
"  But  not  now,"  he  added ;  "  here  comes  Miss  White.  Another 
tini.-." 

-  No  matter,"  said  Kate. 

"What  a  noble,  spacious  room!  how  finely  proportioned! 
What  an  admirable  music-room  it  would  make  !  What  a  grand 
i-nllrctiiin  of  books!"  said  Alicia  White,  as  she  entered  the 
library.  Mi--  White  had  a  slight  approach  to  a  drawl,  in  her 
way  <>t  sju-aking,  together  with  a  habit  of  half  closing  her  eyes, 
and  holding  her  head  on  one  side  languishingly ;  but  she  talkfd 
enthusiasm,  ami  strung  raptures.  "  What  a  charming  copy  of 


76  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

Ta&bO  this  is,  Mr.  Ferraor  !  "  said  she,  taking  down  one  of  the 
volumes,  and  opening  it.  "  My  kind  papa  gave  me  a  beauty  on 
my  last  birthday;  but  it  is  not  so  fine  a  one  as  yours." 

"  It  is  my  father's,  not  mine,"  said  Fermor. 

"  What  have  you  there,  Miss  Ireton  ?  "  continued  Miss  White, 
addressing  Kate,  who  was  turning  over  the  leaves  of  a  richly 
illustrated  book. 

"  I  don't  know ;  I  was  only  looking  at  the  pictures,"  said 
Kate,  without  hesitation,  but  colouring  as  she  spoke. 

"  I  should  say — its  name  ?  What  is  the  work  ?  Look  at  the 
top  of  the  page,  or  turn  to  the  title,"  persisted  Miss  White. 

"  It's  of  no  use  if  I  did,"  replied  Kate. 

"  Of  no  use  ?  "  repeated  Miss  White,  innocently. 

"  No ;  I  can't  read  it." 

"You  are  not  a  German  scholar  yet?''  said  Fermor,  as  he 
stepped  to  her  side,  and  glanced  at  the  book.  "  It  is  Goethe'^ 
'  Hermann  and  Dorothea,'  Miss  White." 

"  I  mean,  I  can't  read ;  I  can't  read  at  all — anything — Ger- 
man or  English,"  said  Kate,  with  a  crimson  cheek,  but  firmly. 

"  Not  read  !  "  gasped  Alicia  White. 

"  No ;  I  thought  you  heard  my  uncle  say  that  I  could  neither 
read  nor  write,  when  he  was  speaking  to  your  father,  about  my 
never  having  been  regularly  taught,  in  the  drawing-room  just 
now,  before — before — Mr.  Fermor  returned." 

"  I  thought  we  had  agreed  to  give  up  the  formal  Miss  and 
Mr.  between  us,  Kate,"  said  he. 

"  I  did  not  know  but  that  you  might  be  unwilling  to  own 
for  a  cousin,  one  who  is  found  out  to  be  a  dunce,"  said  Kate. 
'  I  don't  wish  to  hold  you  to  your  relationship  against  your 
will." 

"  Wait  till  I  tell  you  I  desire  to  give  it  up,  before  you  offer 
to  release  me,"  replied  Fermor. 

"  I  shall  wait  for  no  such  thing,"  said  Kate,  impetuously ; 
"  if  I  had  so  much  as  a  notion  you  thought  it  a  disgrace  to  be 
related  to  such  an  ignoramus  as  I  have  been  shown  to  be — and 
M  I  am — J  should  not  tamely  wait  for  you  to  tell  me  so,  T 


THE    IRON    COUS1H.  If 

should  insist  at  once  upon  our  calling  each  other  cousins  no 
longer.1' 

"  But  I  do  not  think  it  a  disgrace.  You  have  never  been 
taught,  you  say ;  therefore  it  is  no  shame  to  you  to  be  ignorant 
It  is  a  defect  you  can  remedy;  a  defect  you  will  remedy,  by 
learning  of  your  own  accord,  now  that  you  have  discovered  your 
deficiency.  No  person  of  sense — and  I  think  you  have  sense, 
Kate — will  voluntarily  continue  without  that,  which  lies  in  their 
own  power  to  acquire.  You  will  think  it  your  duty  to  set  about 
gaining  knowledge  immediately  for  yourself,  since  you  have  found 
out  you  need  it ;  and  if  you  do  that  energetically  and  earnestly, 
you  are  a  cousin  to  be  proud  of — one  to  whom  it  would  be  rather 
an  honour  than  a  disgrace  to  be  related.  You  must  ask  your 
uncle  to  give  you  a  good  instructress,  without  delay." 

"  '  Must'     That  is  so  like  the  iron  cousin,"  said  Kate. 

"  Are  you  and  Mr.  Fermor  Worthington  so  nearly  related, 
Mi—  Ireton?"  said  Alicia  White;  "  I  did  not  know  you  were 
cousins." 

"  There  is  cousinship  of  some  sort  between  the  families  ;  and 
he  is  willing  to  own  it,  for  the  sake  of  the  opportunity  it  gives 
him  to  exercise  his  love  of  authority,"  replied  Kate.  "  All  boys 
are  fond  of  commanding,  and  showing  their  superiority ;  and  my 
iron  cousin  is  especially  given  to  point  out  what  he  deems  proper, 
expecting  to  see  it  observed,  and  himself  obeyed." 

"  Which,  of  course,  is  a  pleasure  to  you,"  simpered  Miss 
White.  "  I  wish  I  had  a  brother,  or  a  cousin,  to  direct  my  ac- 
tions ;  I  should  take  such  delight  in  showing  my  ready  obedience 
to  one  who  had  the  right  to  demand  it — as,  of  course,  male  rela- 
tions have." 

"  I  agree  to  no  such  right,"  said  Kate. 

'  Oh  dear  !  "  replied  Alicia ;  "  I  know  you're  not  saying  what 
you  think,  now." 

"  I  always  say  what  I  think,"  returned  Kate. 

"  I  am  sure  you  are  too  well-bred,  not  to  allow  that  a  lady- 
like submission  best  becomes  us  girls  in  such  cases."  continued 
Alicia. 


78  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  I'm  afraid  I  can't  be  very  well-bred,  since  1  don't  kno\i 
how  to  read  ;  and  I  seldom  think  of  what  is  becoming,"  said  Kate. 

"  But  you  have  begun  now  to  think  it  unbecoming  not  to  be 
able  to  read  and  write,  Kate,  haven't  you  ?  "  said  Fermor,  with 
his  quiet  smile.  "  You  will  surely  not  think  it  wise  or  right  to 
go  on  in  your  ignorance  ?  You  will  lose  no  time  in  trying  to 
make  up  for  that  which  has  already  been  lost  ?  You  will  promise 
the  iron  cousin  thus  much  ?  " 

"  I  don't  like  promising,"  said  Kate. 

"  You  don't  like  being  bound  ?  "  smiled  Fermor. 

"  No,"  she  said,  in  the  same  manner ;  "  nor  do  I  like  to  break 
my  word,  which  makes  me  careful  of  giving  a  promise." 

"  Then  you  shall  not  promise  me  ;  but  you  shall  do  what  I 
ask,"  replied  Fermor. 

"  There's  the  iron  cousin  !  insisting  on  his  will  "  laughed 
Kate. 

He  echoed  her  laugh ;  and  they  returned  to  the  dining- 
room. 

As  Kate  and  her  uncle  rode  homewards,  they  both  fell  into 
deep  thought.  At  length,  the  good  'Squire  said,  looking  away 
from  her,  stooping  down,  and  fidgetily  patting  his  horse's  neck  : 
— "  My  dear,  should  you  like  to  have  a  governess  ?  " 

"  Very  much,  uncle,"  answered  Kate,  with  a  bright,  sudden 
up-glance,  as  if  his  words  had  pleasantly  and  unexpectedly  chimed 
in  with  the  subject  of  her  own  pre-occupation. 

"  No,  really,  should  you?  should  you,  indeed,  my  dear  child?  " 
replied  the  'Squire,  eagerly,  in  a  tone  of  great  relief.  "  I  was 
afraid  that,  perhaps — I  thought  that,  very  likely,  you  might 
have — that,  probably,  my  own  bad  example,  and  my  neglecting 
to  have  you  taught,  might  have  caused  you  to  think  with  dread 
of  learning  and  lessons,  and  the  rest  of  it.  I  fear  that  worthy 
Mr.  White  was  very  near  the  truth  when  he  hinted  that  I  bad 
been  culpably  neglectful  of  your  education,  my  dear ;  we  must 
try  and  repair  our  error,  and  think  less  of  amusing  ourselves 
with  our  rides  and  our  rambles,  and  more  of  tormenting  ourselves 
with  stopping  iu-doors,  to  try  and  become  something  like  what 


THE   IRON   COUSIW.  79 

Christians  and  gentlefolks  should  be.  I  never  was  much  of  a 
scholar  myself;  I  never  had  any  taste,  nor  any  head,  for  bookish- 
ud  study ;  but  I  am  not  such  an  oaf  as  to  pretend  to  de- 
uiiowledge  because  I  can't  master  it ;  I  can  understand  that 
it'.-  :i  very  noble  thing  for  those  who  can  master  it,  and  that  it's 
what  every  one  should  try  to  master,  if  their  brains  will  let  them. 
I  ought,  before  now,  to  have  given  your  young  brains  a  chance  ; 
but  vre  were  so  happy  in  our  idleness,  Kate — weren't  we  ? — that 
I  kept  putting  off  and  putting  off  the  troublesome  duty  from  day 
to  'lay.  However,  I'm  glad  to  find  that  my  rcmissness  hasn't 
HI  unwilling  to  learn,  but  that  you're  ready  to  help  me  to 
mend  my  fault.  I  once  hoped  I  should  never  have  committed  a 
fault  where  you  were  concerned,  child,"  said  the  'Squire,  with  a 
sigh.  "  But  the  best  of  us  are  but  mistaken  creatures  in  some 
one  thing  or  other ;  and  I,  Heaven  help  me  !  am  far  indeed  from 
the  best,  God  knows." 

"  Dear  uncle,"  said  Kate,  gaily,  u  I  won't  have  you  reproach 
yourself;  I  can't  bear  to  hear  you  talk  of  faults  and  neglect. 
There  have  been  none  but  what  can  well  be  made  up  for  by  dili- 
gence now.  If  you'll  get  me  a  governess,  I'll  work  hard,  and  do 
my  b«\=t  to  l^arn,  so  that  no  time  shall  have  been  lost." 

"  Thank  you,  Kate,  my  dear  !  I  see  your  resolve  to  save 
me  from  blame — my  own,  which  would  be  worse  than  all ;  you'll 
strive  to  become  a  clever  girl  for  my  sake — that  no  fault  may  at- 
tach to  me.  But  you  must  mind  and  not  overdo  it  either,  Kate ; 
take  all  gently — take  all  gently.  We  shall  have  you  a  first-rate 
scholar  quite  time  enough.  I  mustn't  have  my  little  girl  over- 
work herself." 

"  Never  fear,  uncle  !  "  cried  Kate,  cheerfully.  "  But  tell 
me,"  added  she,  presently,  "  have  you  thought  of  whom  you  shall 
have  to  teach  me — to  be  my  governess  ?  " 

•  Well,  Kate,  my  dear,  I've  turned  it  over  in  my  mind  a 
'Iral.  since  that  excellent  Mr.  "White  spoke  so  openly  and  so 
about  tin-  matter,  this  morning.  But  I  think  we 
won't  go  so  far  as  to  let  his  good  lady  scMid  to  town  for  the  sort 
of  go  vi •!•!.•  •.-.<  he  talks  of.  I  think  .-In-  would  be — would  be — per- 


30  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

haps — too  much  for  us  ;  eh.  my  dear,  at  first  ?  Suppose  we  go  a 
little  quietly  to  work,  just  at  present,  and  begin  with  not  quite 
such  a  finisher — finishing-governess,  I  mean  ;  a  little  less  fashion- 
able and  finishing  might,  perhaps,  suit  us  better — at  any  rate,  ai 
first.  Eh,  my  dear  ?  What  do  you  think  ?  " 

"  I  think  with  you,  uncle,"  said  Kate. 

"  Well,  then,  I'll  tell  you  what  has  struck  me,  Kate,  my  dear 
You  must  know,  the  last  time  I  drank  tea  with  our  worthy  vicat 
and  his  good  wife,  I  met  a  friend  of  theirs,  a  young  widow  lady — 
poor  thing  ! — whom  they  had  had  to  stay  with  them  for  a  time, 
while  she  looked  about  her — (they  told  me  this  when  she  left  the 
room,  in  the  course  of  the  evening,  to  carry  one  of  the  children 
up  to  bed,  who  wouldn't  be  satisfied  without  she  did) — for  a  means 
of  earning  her  livelihood,  which  the  sudden  death  of  her  young 
husband,  leaving  her  unprovided  for,  had  rendered  necessary. 
It  seems  she  thought  of  trying  to  obtain  a  situation  as  a  gover- 
ness ;  and  I  remember  thinking,  while  I  noticed  how  she  attended 
to  the  little  one  that  sat  next  to  her  at  tea,  leaning  down  to 
listen  to  his  prattle,  spreading  some  sugar  on  his  bread-and- 
butter,  when  he  whispered  her  for  some,  and  afterwards  humour- 
ing the  young  rogue,  when  he  couldn't  be  persuaded  to  unclasp 
his  arms  from  about  her  neck,  but  insisted  that  she  should  go  up 
stairs  with  him,  and  put  him  to  bed  herself; — I  remember  think- 
ing to  myself  that  she  was  the  very  woman  to  make  a  good  gover- 
ness, and  that  she  couldn't  fail  to  get  engaged  as  one,  very  soon. 
What  do  you  think,  Kate,  my  dear  ?  " 

"  I  think  so,  too,  uncle ;  and  did  she  get  an  engagement  ?  " 
said  Kate. 

"  That  is  what  I  don't  know,  but  what  I  think  of  ascertain- 
ing this  very  evening,  by  going  over  to  the  vicarage,  and  inquir- 
ing of  our  good  Dr.  Meadows  whether  his  young  friend  has  met 
with  a  situation  that  suits  her ;  and,  if  not,  whether  he  thinks 
Bhe  would  like  to  come  to  us,  and  be  good  enough  to  help  me  in 
my  difficulty,  by  undertaking  the  charge  of  my  little  girl.  What 
do  you  say  to  this,  my  dear  ?  " 

"  I  say  it  is  a  capital  idea,  uncle ;  and  that  you  can't  do  bet- 
ter than  put  it  in  practice."  said  Kate. 


THE    IKON    COUSIN.  81 

Fortunately  for  the  'Squire's  project,  the  young  widow  wae 
found  to  be  still  disengaged.  Both  she  and  her  friends  at  the 
vicarage  gladly  accepted  the  prospect  of  a  home  for  her  at 
Heathcotc  Hall ;  and  gentle  Mrs.  Lindon  was  speedily  installed 
there  as  the  governess  of  its  young  mistress. 

Blessed  with  a  sweetness  and  evenness  of  temper,  which  her 
early  acquaintance  with  sorrow  had  enhanced,  rather  than  injured, 
chastened  into  resignation  of  spirit,  and  subdued  into  a  mild  se- 
renity of  demeanour,  Mrs.  Lindon  was  one  of  the  meekest  and 
tendcrest  of  women.  She  shrank  from  uttering  an  opinion  that 
sounded  like  opposition,  a  word  approaching  to  thwarting,  or  a 
syllable  that  might  be  construed  into  disapprobation.  Sensitive 
herself,  she  had  a  terror  of  inflicting  pain  by  speech  or  look  ;  and 
so  careful  was  she  of  wounding  others'  feelings,  that  she  kept 
constant  guard  upon  her  own,  lest  their  heedless  expression  should 
chance  to  hurt  by  a  seeming  complaint  or  reproach. 

With  a  timid,  self-doubting  child,  such  a  natured  woman 
would  have  been  the  very  person,  of  all  others,  for  its  charge ; 
but  with  a  high-spirited,  dauntless  girl,  like  Kate,  this  extreme 
softness  and  yieldingness  rendered  Mrs.  Lindon  far  from  best 
titled  for  the  task  she  had  undertaken.  A  judicious  firmness, 
with  dispassionate  reasoning — a  power  to  win  her  esteem,  and 
command  her  respect,  as  well  as  to  gain  her  affection — would 
have  been  the  means  just  then  of  moulding  Kate's  character  to  its 
true  capability,  and  of  developing  and  perfecting  those  qualities 
in  her  nature  which  lay  at  present  obscured  beneath  the  less 
:it  ones  that  had  grown  out  of  her  position,  and  bad  been 
<1  by  ceaseless  and  universal  spoiling.  A  governess,  whose 
cliann-tcr  should  have  combined  moral  courage  with  loving-kind- 
:i  woman  who  possessed  a  wise  strength  of  nature  with  an 
aflV; -tionate  heart,  and  who  could  have  been  capable  of  exercising 
salutary  control,  at  the  same  time  that  she  manifested  how  purely 
it  was  regard  for  its  object's  welfare  which  called  it  forth, — 
would  have  wrought  the  effect  upon  Kate's  disposition,  which 
was  all  it  wanted,  to  display  it  in  its  outward  working,  as  it  in- 
trinsically existed.  But.  falling  into  the  hands  of  the  easy,  pas 


82  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

siv^  negatively-kind  Mrs.  Lindon,  was  only  a  continuance  of  the 
»ame  course  of  uniform  indulgence  which  had  hitherto  been  Kate's 
moral  and  mental  atmosphere  ;  and  no  wonder  that  she  remained, 
as  she  had  ever  been,  sole  directress  of  her  own  thoughts,  words, 
and  actions,  which  too  often  took  a  perverse  shape  and  wayward 
expression. 

There  was,  with  all  this,  so  true  an  indication  of  uer  really 
fine  nature  constantly  shining  through  Kate  Ireton's  least  gracious 
ways,  that  few  could  resist  the  charm  of  her  beauty.  She  was 
not  merely  uncommonly  handsome  in  face  and  person,  but  she 
had  that  radiant  expression  of  a  noble,  unmean  soul,  which  looked 
forth  from  her  eyes,  in  clear,  unmistakeable  light,  imparting  a 
loveliness  supreme  and  incomparable.  In  her  most  petulant 
speeches,  in  her  frankest  out-speakings,  in  her  liveliest  and  most 
careless  sallies,  there  was  an  absence  of  ill-temper  or  malice,  that 
while  it  disarmed  them  of  their  sting,  carried  with  it  an  irresisti- 
ble conviction  of  true-hearted  warmth  and  earnestness,  seeming 
but  another  discovered  grace. 

Mrs.  Lindon  grew  to  love  her  beautiful,  wilful  pupil,  with 
the  same  fond  idolatry  felt  towards  her  by  all  the  household.  The 
governess's  sense  of  right  was  often  pained  by  the  consciousness 
that  the  young  girl  profited  too  little  by  the  instructions  she  was 
so  able  and  so  willing  to  impart ;  but  she  lacked  the  energy  to 
enforce  their  necessity,  and  let  the  moments  slip  by  for  their  reg- 
ular inculcation.  Kate's  life-long  course  of  unrestriction,  made 
set  lessons  insupportably  irksome  to  her ;  and  she  was  never  at  a 
loss  for  some  excuse  to  avoid  going  into  the  study  of  a  morning 
at  the  appointed  hour.  Mrs.  Lindon's  habitual  compliance,  and 
dislike  of  opposition,  joined  to  her  personal  kindness  for  Kate, 
made  her  continually  yield  to  these  pretexts,  at  the  very  time  she 
felt  the  weakness  of  allowing  them  to  prevail.  This  awakened  a 
remorse  that  she  was  failing  in  her  duty,  both  to  the  'Squire  and 
to  his  adopted  daughter,  in  the  small  progress  made  by  the  latter ; 
and  then  she  would  devise  means  of  coaxing  her  pupil  into  more 
punctual  study.  But  finding  that  the  very  sight  of  an  arrayed  ta- 
ttle, with  books  and  writing  materials  prepared,  at  a  particulai 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  83 

time,  only  served  to  excite  Kate's  disinclination  to  set  to  work, 
Mrs.  Liudon  at  length  fell  into  the  way  of  teaching,  however  and 
whenever  she  could,  instead  of  at  fixed  periods.  She  would  allow 
the  nominal  hour  of  studying  to  be  eluded,  and  the  walk  or  tin: 
ride  to  be  substituted :  while  she  contrived,  during  their  strolls 
in  the  park,  or  their  gardening,  or  their  fishing,  to  instil  as  much 
instructive  precept,  and  to  impress  as  many  intellectual  ideas,  as 
might  be.  in  the  course  of  their  conversation. 

Sometimes  Kate  would  detect  her  gentle  governess's  device, 
and  provokingly  try  to  frustrate  it,  by  a  thousand  tricks  of  pre- 
tended negligence  and  inattention;  by  frolicsome  idleness,  or  by 
pertinacious  stupidity ;  'by  darting  off  to  something  else,  with  a 
jray  exclamation,  or  by  a  look  of  impenetrable  dulness :  but  Mrs. 
Limlon's  patience,  though  often  severely  tried,  never  forsook  her, 
and  she  was  rewarded  by  a  certain  amount  of  success. 

Kate  had  naturally  quick  faculties,  a  comprehensive  under- 
standing, and  innate  good  taste.  She,  therefore,  insensibly  im- 
bilied  a  larger  share  of  knowledge  from  these  desultory  lessons 
with  her  really  well-informed  instructress,  than  many  girls  acquire 
during  a  long  course  of  schooling.  She  learned  to  think  justly 
upon  many  points;  she  gained  a  largo  stock  of  ideas;  she  acquir- 
ed a  reverence  for  art,  and  an  estimation  of  the  value  of  literature. 

.  Lindon  had  a  passionate  love  of  art,  and  she  inspired  her  pu- 
pil with  some  of  her  own  feeling.  When  first  married,  Mrs.  Lin- 
don had  travelled  in  Italy  with  her  husband,  a  young  artist,  whose 
insatiable  desire  to  behold  the  glories  of  the  great  masters  of  Rome 
and  Florence  had  conquered  even  the  feebleness  of  disease,  and 
had  enabled  him  to  hold  at  bay  for  a  season  the  insidious  ap- 
proaches of  decline.  It  had  been  the  period  of  her  happiness- 
transient,  but  most  bright;  and  Mrs  Lindon  reverted  with  tender 
enthusiasm  to  all  that  belonged  to  that  journey.  Love,  painting, 
sculpture,  music,  poetry,  and  beautiful  above  all  beautiful  coun- 
tries— Italy,  were  consociatcd  in  her  mind,  forming  one  blended 
image  of  delight  and  perfection.  The  only  time  that  the  gentle 
Mrs.  Lindon  lost  her  serenity  of  patience,  was  once  when  Kate 
forgot  herself  so  far  as  to  reply  with  a  light,  scoffing  air,  to  some 


t$4  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

words  of  loving  memory  which  the  young  widow  allowed  to  escape 
her,  relative  to  that  cherished  subject. 

The  wound  her  feelings  had  received,  showed  itself  in  a  few 
bitter,  irrepressible  tears,  which,  when  Kate  saw,  she  at  first 
strove  to  harden  herself  against,  walking  disregardfuUy  away,  and 
taking  no  notice  of  them.  But  presently,  when  her  'better  nature 
had  had  time  to  assert  itself,  she  returned,  saying :  "  5Tou  know 
I  could  not  mean  to  hurt  you  by  what  I  said.  How  can  you  take 
it  so  seriously  ?  " 

"  True,  dear  Kate,  I  was  wrong,"  said  gentle  Mrs.  Lindon  . 
4<  I  should  have  remembered  that  you  were  young  and  thoughtless ; 
it  was  my  fault,  to  feel  a  heedless  word  like  a  cruel  one." 

Mrs.  Lindon  was  ever  readier  to  believe  that  she  herself  might 
err,  than  to  rebuke  her  pupil. 


CHAPTER  X. 

No  one  so  often  abetted  Kate's  want  of  application  to  her  studies 
as  her  uncle.  The  good  'Squire  would  constantly  be  throwing  out 
hints  of  the  folly  of  mewing  a  young  girl  up  in-doors,  of  letting 
her  sit  stooping,  and  poring,  and  puzzling  over  lessons,  spoiling  her 
shape,  hurting  her  eyes,  getting  ill  for  want  of  pure  fresh  air  and 
wholesome  exercise,  instead  of  sending  her  out  for  a  good  gallop 
on  horseback,  that  would  bring  her  back  with  cheeks  like  a  rose. 
Mrs.  Lindon  had  some  difficulty  in  reconciling  these  inuendoea 
with  the  instructions  she  had  received  when  she  first  came  to 
Heathcote  Hall ;  which  latter  were,  to  mind  and  take  pains  with 
Katey's  learning,  and  to  make  her  a  first-rate  scholar  in  no  time, 
that  she  might  have  done  with  troubling  herself  about  globes,  and 
maps,  and  slates,  and  copy-books,  and  school-books,  and  all  the 
rest  of  the  tribe  of  books,  ever  after.  At  first,  in  accordance  with 
his  expressed  wishes,  she  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  his  hinted  ones ; 
but  finding  tint  they  were  only  urged  the  more  strongly  and  open- 


THE    IEON    COUSIN.  8/> 

Iy,  she  took  the  course  of  obeying  the  present  desire,  whatever 
that  might  be. 

One  morning,  just  before  the  ostensible  hour  for  Kate's  lessons, 
the  'Squire  had  been  wilfully  dawdling  over  his  breakfast,  putting 
off  as  long  as  possible  the  moment  for  her  to  leave  him,  making 
one  or  two  side  remarks  on  the  fineness  of  the  day,  and  the  sin  it 
was  to  stay  under  a  roof  in  such  weather,  &c. ;  when  Mrs.  Lin 
don,  in  the  hope  of  evading  the  expected  direct  proposal  for  a 
morning's  holiday,  made  her  escape  from  the  room,  observing  that 
she  was  going  to  the  study,  and  that  Kate  would  find  her  there, 
whenever  she  liked  to  come. 

"  Stay  a  moment,  my  dear ;  no  hurry,  no  hurry ;  no  need  to 
hurry  ;  the  study  won't  run  away,  nor  the_books  either — more's 
the  pity,  I  was  going  to  say.  But  what  do  you  think  of  a  brisk 
canter  over  to  Worthington  Court  this  morning  ?  I  hear  my  poor 
friend  Morton  has  not  been  well;  feverish,  languid,  I  fancy.  His 
health  is  not  what  it  used  to  be,  poor  fellow ;  though  he  bears  up 
bravely  and  without  a  murmur,  as  he  always  did,  through  his 
worst  trial — when  he  had  to  leave  the  old  place,  and  struggle 
abroad  on  a  pittance." 

"  Bearing  bravely  is  scarcely  a  virtue  in  such  a  man  as  Mr. 
Worthington  !"  said  Kate.  "  He  looks  as  if  nothing  could  make 
any  impression  upon  him — as  if  nothing  touched  him,  nothing 
moved  him." 

"  He's  a  staunch,  noble  fellow,  indeed  ! "  returned  the  'Squire 
thinking  he  was  confirming  her  words.  "  But  come,  what  say  you 
to  having  the  horses  round,  and  going  over  to  see  him  ?  It  will 
be  but  kind;  and  it's  a  charming  day  for  a  ride,  eh,  Kate  ?" 

"  It  is  indeed,"  replied  she,  looking  with  longing  eyes  across 
the  park,  where  all  looked  so  sunny,  and  green,  and  bright. 

"  Then  come,  Kate  ;  hang  the  lessons." 

She  laughed,  in  concert  with  her  uncle's  hearty  good-humour- 
ed laugh  ;  atiJ  they  felt  that  the  compact  was  made  between  them 
— when  who  should  appear,  coming  up  the  avenue,  but  Fermot 
Worthington. 

He  entered,  saying  earnestly: — "I  am  come  to  fetch  you: 


g6  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

you  will  not  refuse  me,  I  know.  You  will  ride  over  with  me  to 
Worthington,  and  spend  the  morning  with  my  father.  He  is  nol 
looking  well,  though  he  does  not  complain ;  but  I  know  your  visit 
will  do  him  good." 

"  What  visit  ?  "  said  Kate,  archly. 

"The  visit  your  uncle  and  you  arc  going  to  pay  him  tlnh 
morning,"  replied  Fermor. 

"  I  know  of  iione  such,"  said  Kate.  "  I  heard  you  settle  one, 
and  take  for  granted  that  it  was  about  to  be ;  but  I  don't  sec  win- 
that  should  decide  the  matter." 

"  It  will  decide  you,"  he  said. 

"  I  am  not  so  sure  of  that  as  you  seem  to  be,"  she  answered. 

"  I  fancied  Kate  had  already  decided,  and  that  we  had  agreed 
to  go,"  said  the  'Squire ;  "  but  it  seems  I  was  mistaken.  She 
shall  do  as  she  pleases.  I  thought,  my  dear,  you  felt  inclined." 

"  So  I  did — so  I  do — but — "  she  stopped. 

"  Then  you  will  go,"  said  Fermor. 

"  I  didn't  say  so,"  she  returned. 

"  If  you  feel  inclined,  why  not  go  ?  Your  uncle  wishes  it ; 
I  wish  it,"  said  Fermor.  "  You  will  ride  with  us." 

"  What  a  peremptory  way  yoM  have  with  you  !  "  said  Kate. 
"  How  do  you  know  I  will  ride  ?  On  the  contrary,  I  ought 
to  stay  at  home ;  you  yourself  would  be  the  first  to  say  I 
ought." 

"  Tell  me  why  you  think  you  ought,  and. I  will  tell  you  whe- 
ther I  think  so  too,"  replied  Fermor. 

"  And  your  opinion  is  to  guide  mine  ?  "  she  said. 

K  Not  to  guide  it,  but  to  confirm  it,"  he  answered.  "  You 
Raid  I  should  be  the  first  to  say  you  ought  to  stay  at  home, 
did  I  know  your  reason  ;  let  me  hear  your  reason,  that  I  may 
judge." 

"  Judge  for  me  whether  I  shall  go  or  stay  ?  "  said  she. 

"  Judge  with  you,  whether  you  ought  to  stay  at  home,  and 
give  up  your  ride  with  us,"  he  said,  quietly  and  firnily. 

"  Give  up  my  ride  ?  How  do  you  know  it  will  be  any  sacri 
ficc  ?  Perhaps  I  prefer  remaining  at  home."  said  Kate. 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  87 

"  No  ;  you  owned  you  '  felt  inclined  '  to  go,"  he  returned. 

"  Very  true  ;  I  should  like  to  ride,  I  confess,"  said  Kate. 

"  And  your  uncle  and  I  wish  to  have  you  with  us.  It  should 
therefore  be  some  very  sufficient  reason,  which  induces  you  tc 
deny  yourself  and  us  the  pleasure,"  he  rejoined. 

"  You  will  allow  it  to  be  most  sufficient,  when  I  tell  you  that 
it  is  because  Mrs.  Lindon  is  at  this  very  instant  expecting  me  in 
the  study,  to  begin  my  morning  lessons,"  said  Kate,  with  a  little 
air  of  triumph  ;  "  you  know,  you  yourself  urged  me  to  work  hard 
at  them  ;  and  now  you  would  have  me  put  them  off,  to  ride  jaunt- 
ing out  with  you  and  uncle." 

"  You  are  quite  right ;  I  withdraw  my  suit.  You  should  let 
nothing  interfere  with  your  regular  hour  for  lessons.  I  sec  ;  you 
must  give  up  the  ride,"  answered  Fermor. 

"  But  I  see  no  such  thing,"  said  the  'Squire.  "  Why  shouldn't 
my  little  girl  and  I  enjoy  ourselves,  once  in  a  way  ?  I  thought 
you  were  on  my  side,  Fermor,  my  dear  fellow  !  " 

"  I  was,  till  I  knew  the  obstacle  to  our  wishes,  sir,"  returned 
But  Kate  says  truly  ;  she  mustn't  neglect  her  lessons; 
she  must  give  up  the  ride." 

•  N';iy,  /said  nothing  of  the  kind  ;   it  was  you  who  said  the 
ride  '  must '  be  given  up,"  she  retorted,  with  her  saucy  smile. 

'•  And  you  will  give  it  up  ;  you  will,  of  course,  stay  at  home," 
he  returned 

"  Why  '  of  course  ? ' "  she  replied. 

"  Because  you  ought,"  he  said,  quietly. 

"  That  does  not  follow,"  she  said. 

"  It  should.  You  yourself  said  that  you  '  ought '  to  stay  at 
home  ;  therefore,  you  will." 

«  I  don't  think  I  shall." 

"  No  ?  " 

-  N'o." 

Fermor  looked  grave.  There  was  a  pause,  which  was  broken 
oy  the  'Squire,  who  said  :  "  But,  after  all,  why  should  Kate  give 
up  a  plrasant  morning,  and  disappoint  us  all  three,  merely  to  do 
a  di'-.-iL'p  eablo  ' 


88  1«E   IKON    COUSIN. 

"  Because  she  has  allowed  that  the  task  should  be  done  ;  hef 
own  good  sense  has  told  her  so,  and  she  will  not  act  against  her 
own  good  sense,"  replied  Fermor. 

"  Kate  has  excellent  sense — excellent  sense  !  "  said  the 
'Squire  ;  "  but,"  added  he,  with  a  sigh,  "  what  a  pity  it  is  there 
are  so  many  disagreeable  things  in  the  world  for  our  good  sense 
to  tell  us  should  be  done  ! " 

*•  "  There  is  one  redeeming  point  in  disagreeables,"  said  Fer- 
mor. "  If  they  are  done  against  inclination,  at  the  prompting  of 
good  sense,  and  to  fulfil  what  is  right,  they  are  converted  into — 
if  not  gratifications — at  least,  sources  of  gratification.  Distaste- 
ful things  done  for  conscience'  sake,  become  remembered  plea- 
sures." 

"  If  so,  it  may  not  be  unwise  to  lay  up  a  store  of  them,"  said 
the  'Squire  ;  "  but  it's  a  troublesome  provision,  after  all,  and,  in 
the  process,  a  great  worry.  Well,"  added  he,  "  so  we  must  be 
content  to  give  up  my  little  girl's  company  this  morning ;  yet  I 
should  have  so  liked  to  have  had  her  with  us,  in  our  ride  over  to 
Worthington  Court." 

"  And  so  you  shall,  uncle ;  I  mean  to  go,"  said  Kate,  without 
looking  at  Fermor.  "  I  will  not  be  two  minutes  putting  on  my 
habit,  if  you  will  wait  for  me." 

"  And  welcome,  my  darling  !  Don't  hurry — plenty  of  time ; 
I'm  only  too  glad  to  wait  for  you ;  and  there  are  the  horses  to 
bring  round.  While  you  get  ready,  I'll  ring  and  order  them  to 
the  door.  Away  with  you,  Kate  !  " 

There  was  a  consciousness,  a  hurry,  almost  a  trepidation,  in 
the  way  in  which  Kate  hastened  from  the  room,  still  without 
looking  towards  Fermor  Worthington.  But  when  she  returned, 
equipped  for  her  ride,  the  sparkle  in  her  eyes,  and  her  slightly 
heightened  colour,  showed  that  she  had  resumed  all  her  vivacity 
of  spirit.  The  feeling  that  she  was  acting,  as  it  were,  in  defiance 
af  his  words,  and  in  opposition  to  what  she  knew  to  be  right, 
wade  her,  after  the  first  moment,  more  than  usually  daring  and 
eareless. 

The  'Squire,  as  they   rode  along,  chatted  happily  with  th« 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  89 

two  young  people,  evidently  enjoying  his  ride  with  them  through 
the  pleasant  park  glades,  and  green  lanes,  with  the  air  blowing 
i'rerly  around,  and  the  sun  shining  brightly  among  the  trees, 
which  yielded  sufficient  shade  to  screen  off  the  noontide  heat. 
Tin;  talk  chanced  to  fall  upon  the  beauties  of  Worthington  Court; 
and  Fertnor,  encouraged  by  the  sympathy  of  the  friendly  'Squire, 
gave  full  veut  to  the  feelings  that  swelled  his  heart  towards  the 
old  place. 

"  I  have  been  told  that  you  Worthingtons  were  a  proud  race," 
said  Kate.  "  Your  attachment  to  the  dwelling  of  your  fore 
fathers  is  an  instance  of  the  family  pride.  To  hear  you  enlarge 
upon  its  merits,  one  might  believe  that  there  was  not  such 
another  estate  in  all  the  broad  lands  of  merry  England." 

"  I  really  think  there  is  scarcely  its  match,"  he  said,  laugh- 
ing. "  I  own  my  weakness  in  favour  of  the  dear  old  place." 

"  The  iron  cousin  owns  to  a  weakness !  He  has,  then,  some 
vulnerable  points  1  " 

"  Who  has  not  ?  "  he  returned. 

"  I  should  like  to  find  them  out,"  she  said  ;  "  there  would  be 
a  wicked  pleasure  in  worrying  them." 

"  And  there  would  be  a  folly  in  not  trying  to  conceal  them, 
to  foil  your  wicked  pleasure,  since  it  is  thus  owned,"  replied 
Fcrmor.  "  It  shall  be  ray  care,  in  future,  to  guard  any  others  I 
may  have  from  discovery  ;  but  as  this  one  foible  is  known  to  you, 
and  it  is  vain  to  deny  it  if  I  would,  you  must  be  allowed  to  tease 
it  as  much  as  you  will." 

i:  Teasing  a  weakness  is  doing  it  a  kindness,"  said  she  ;  "  it 
puts  it  out  of  countenance,  teaches  it  to  be  ashamed  of  itself,  and 
to  make  way  for  strength,  which  manfully  comes  forward,  and 
takes  its  place." 

"  True,"  he  said  ;  "  but  I  have  a  strong  love  for  Worthington 
Court ;  it  will  take  a  mighty  power  to  uproot  it.  I  should  not 
!iav<-  called  my  regard  for  the  old  place  a  weakness;  'tis  a 
strength — the  strength  of  affection." 

"  And  the  strength  of  prejudice, "  she  n'j'>iiu>d.  "  Why,  you 
would  fain  have  us  believe  that  everything  at  Worthington  Court, 


90  THE    JION    COUSIX 

as  well  as  "Worthington  Court  itself,  is  superlative.  I  dare  say, 
you  are  ready  to  prove  that  the  honeysuckles  which  grow  round 
the  library  window  at  Worthington  are  finer  than  those  which 
hang  so  profusely,  and  in  such  rich  clusters,  round  yonder  porch,71 
she  said,  pointing  to  a  cottage  they  were  approaching. 

"  Goody  Johnson  is  a  tenant  of  my  father's,  and  her  honey- 
suckle happens  to  have  been  a  slip  from  the  original  plant  that 
runs  up  one  side  of  our  old  mansion,"  said  Fermor,  smiling.  "  1 
told  you,  you  know,  Kate,  I  had  whims  of  my  own  about  that 
woodbine,  the  very  leafy  shadows  of  which  won  your  childish 
fancy.  I  confess  to  a  predilection — prejudice,  if  you  will — in 
favour  of  the  peculiar  merits  of  the  Worthington  honeysuckles. 
Leaning  on  my  mother's  lap,  I  learned  to  see  a  beauty  in  them, 
that  no  other  flowers  have  since  possessed  for  me.  When  we 
were  abroad,  I  remember,  no  scent  of  orange  grove,  or  {  spiced 
Italian  air,'  ever  seemed  to  me  laden  with  half  the  welcome  fra- 
grance that  lurks  so  richly,  yet  so  revivingly,  in  those  simple 
honeysuckle  blossoms.  Coming  suddenly  upon  a  plant  of  those 
flowers,  in  ever  so  alien  a  scene,  was  sure  to  fill  me  with  associa- 
tions of  home  and  its  pleasant  images.  A  whole  atmosphere  of 
content  and  refreshment  lies  in  the  scent  of  honeysuckle — to  my 
sense,  at  least !  " 

Kate  was  almost  startled  at  this  burst  of  enthusiasm — so  un- 
usual in  the  tranquil-spoken,  quiet-mannered  Fermor — and  about 
a  flower,  too  ;'but  she  was  just  going  to  break  the  silence  which 
followed  his  speech,  when  an  old  woman  in  a  red  cloak,  and  a 
black  silk  hat  tied  under  her  chin,  came  out  of  the  cottage,  and, 
seeing  Fermor  Worthington,  dropped  him  a  curtsey,  and  asked 
how  his  honour's  father  was. 

Fermor  answered  her  inquiry  kindly,  adding  :  "  We  have 
been  admiring  your  woodbine,  Goody.  The  plant  thrives  finely 
with  you ;  but  I  can't  allow  that  it  rivals  ours  yet." 

"  Lauk,  no  !  Surely  not !  But  it  do  come  on  main  well  too. 
See,  it  be  clambered  up  right  over  the  porch.  I  can  scarce  reach 
ap  to  the  blossoms  now,  they  be  got  up  so  high." 

"  I  wish  you  would  try  and  gather  me  a  few,  though,  Goody 
Johnson  ;  they  are  beautiful,"  said  Kate  Ireton. 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  91 

"  That  I  will,  my  bonny  young  lady,"  said  the  old  woman ; 
"  I'll  go  get  a  chair  in-doors,  to  stand  upon ;  for  I  tried  last 
night  to  hook  down  some,  while  I  was  on  the  ground,  and  couldn't 
auigh  reach  lem." 

"  No  matter,  Goody,"  said  Fermor  :  "  I  will  give  Miss  Ireton 
some  at  Worthington  Court ;  we  are  going  there  now." 

"  And,  of  course,  the  Worthington  honeysuckles  I  am  to 
think  better  worth  having,"  said  Kate.  "  For  my  part,  I  cannot 
see  that  everything  belonging  to  Worthington  Court  has  a  pecu- 
liar charm.  What  hinders  these  cottage  beauties  from  blooming 
quite  as  finely  as  your  aristocratic  flowers  ?  I  shall  encourage 
no  such  proud  fancies.  Thank  you,  Goody,"  she  said,  raising 
her  voice,  "  I  shall  be  glad  if  you  will  get  the  chair,  and  gather 
me  some  of  your  lovely  flowers." 

The  old  woman  pottered  away  for  the  chair,  brought  it  forth 
into  the  porch,  and  stood  upon  it ;  but  it  was  no  use  ;  the  spray& 
hung  just  above  her  finger-tips. 

l'  I'll  set  the  chair  round  there,  outside,"  said  Goody  John- 
son. "  It  blossoms  lower  down,  yonder,  by  the  stem." 

"  I  will  gather  you  as  many  as  you  please  from  the  study- 
window,"  said  Fermor  Worthington,  in  his  low,  earnest  voice ; 
"  I  would  rather  you  had  some  of  those — I  wish  you  to  have 
Home,  of  those." 

"  But  if  I  have  a  fancy  for  some  of  these  ?  "  she  replied,  with 
her  eyes  perversely  fixed  upon  the  old  woman's  efforts ;  while 
Fcrmor  looked  down  in  silence,  and  sat  smoothing  his  horse's 
mane,  abstractedly,  with  the  head  of  his  riding-whip. 

At  length,  Goody  Johnson  succeeded  in  getting  a  few  sprays, 
ami  brought  them  with  many  curtseys  to  Kate ;  who,  receiving 
them  with  a  gracious  nod  and  a  smile  of  thanks,  rode  on,  accom- 
jianied  by  her  uncle  and  Fcrraor. 

They  found  Mr.  Worthington  sitting  out  upon  the  terrace, 
under  a  spreading  sycamore  tree,  which  grew  at  one  end  of  it, 
ami  tinned  ;i  .*liady  canopy  to  a  garden-scat  placed  there. 

lie  seemed  feeble,  but  still'  in  reserve,  as  ever;  his  frame  bunt 
»nd  languid,  lii.s  sjiirit  rigid  ;  his  physical  energies  yielding  to 


92  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

depression,  but  his  moral  determination  inflexible ;  with  that 
same  pale,  cold,  austere  face. 

After  the  first  greetings  between  himself  and  his  warm-heart- 
ed friend  the  'Squire,  and  a  sort  of  distant  half  bow,  with  averted 
look  and  compressed  lips,  in  reply  to  Kate's  salutation,  submit- 
ting his  hand  to  be  shaken  by  her  rather  than  shaking  hands  with 
her,  Mr.  Worthington  turned  to  his  son,  and  said — "  Fermor, 
how  came  you  to  neglect  speaking  to  Williams  this  morning 
about  those  exotics,  as  I  bade  you  ?  " 

"  I  am  very  sorry,  father ;  I  quite  forgot  to  see  him  before  I 
rode  over  to  the  Hall ;  I  was  so  eager  to  ask  'Squire  Heathcotc 
to  come  and  see  you,  and  spend  the  morning  with  us,  that  your 
orders  to  Williams  totally  slipped  out  of  my  head  till  this  mo- 
ment." 

"  I'll  thank  you  to  observe  my  express  instructions  better  in 
future ;  go  and  seek  Williams  now  ;  he  is  somewhere  about  the 
grounds.  If  you  do  not  readily  find  him,  step  on  to  the  garden- 
er's house,  and  desire  his  wife,  or  some  of  them,  to  send  him  up 
this  afternoon  ;  I'll  speak  to  him  myself." 

**  I  assure  you  I  really  am  very  sorry,  sir,"  began  Fermor, 
again  ;  but  his  father  interrupted  him  with,  "  There — no  matter, 
go  at  once.  You  are  only  creating  farther  delay  by  waiting  to 
express  sorrow  for  what  a  little  more  thought  at  the  right  time 
might  have  prevented  from  occurring.  Go,  when  I  bid  you." 

As  Fermor  withdrew,  the  'Squire  said,  "  It's  a  pity  you 
thought  it  necessary  to  send  him  away  from  us,  Morton ;  your 
gardener's  house  is  a  good  step  from  here,  if  I  recollect ;  it  lies 
down  near  the  clump  of  maples,  by  the  south  entrance,  doesn't 
it  ?  Why,  we  sha'n't  have  Fermor  back  with  us  much  before  we 
return ;  and  he's  too  good  a  young  fellow  for  me  not  to  wish  him 
here  while  we  stay." 

"  It  will  be  his  own  loss  ;  so  much  the  worse  for  him  if  ha 
be  not  back  in  time  to  enjoy  your  visit ;  but  he  deserves  to  lose 
i  gratification,  since  he  has  been  guilty  of  a  fault,"  replied  Mr, 
Worthington. 

"  «  Guilty  ! '    '  Fault ! '  "  exclaimed  Kate.     "  You  treat  for 


THE   IRON    COUSIH.  'J3 

gctfulness  as  guilt — omission  as  a  misdeed  ?  Errors  are  crimes, 
then,  with  you,  sir  ?  "  she  said,  with  a  bright,  indignant  light  in 
her  eyes. 

Mr.  Worthiugton  felt,  rather  than  saw,  this  glance  ;  for  he  never 
let  his  look  meet  hers. 

"  Young  lady,  I  think  that  error,  too  leniently  passed  over,  is 
liable  to  grow  into  crime ;  therefore  I  tear  up  the  evil  weed  in  its 
butl.  It  has  been  said, — '  better  a  little  chiding  than  a  great 
deal  of  heart-break.'  I  reprove  my  son  on  that  principle." 

"  And  you  are  not  sorry  to  inflict  upon  him  a  little  penalty, — 
or  to  let  one  fall  to  his  share. — as  well  as  to  give  him  a  reproof? 
If  he  miss  a  pleasure,  he  may  take  it  for  his  pains, — the  whole- 
some pains,  you  think,  he  ought  to  endure.  Smart  justice  !  Sharp 
teaching !  " 

"  Scarce  so  smart  or  so  sharp  as  your  speech,  young  lady  ;  my 
good  friend's  leniency  towards  your  glib  tongue  may  prove  its  mis- 
chief hereafter.  What  is  now  tolerated  as  the  pretty  liveliness 
of  a  forward  young  girl  will  be  resented  as  offensive  and  unbear- 
able in  the  woman.  But  'tis  none  of  my  affair,  thank  heaven  !  " 

Kate  was  silent  for  a  moment  or  two ;  during  which,  she 
stood  earnestly  regarding  Mr.  Worthington's  face,  as  it  remained 
fixed  and  colourless,  turned  from  her,  with  the  gaze  directed  out 
beyond  the  terrace. 

'•  Why  do  you  never  look  at  me  when  you  speak  to  me  ?  "  she 
sai'l.  suddenly. 

Mr.  Morton  Worthington  shrank  as  if  a  wounded  nerve  had 
been  touched ;  but  his  countenance  continued  unmoved,  and  his 
voice  was  unshaken  as  he  answered,  "  I  am  not  accustomed  to  be 
;ioned." 

"  Does  it  offend  you  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  It  is  of  too  little  consequence  to  offend  me,"  he  answered; 
'  nevertheless " 

"  If  it  does  not  offend  you,  I  may  surely  ask  you  the  truth. 
VVliy  do  you  never  look  at  me?  You  look  at  uncle,  you  look  at 
Fennor,  when  you  address  them  ;  but  you  never  let  your  eye* 
•iji.m  mo  for  an  instant.  Do  you  dislike  me?  " 


94  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

There  was  a  tremulous  tone  in  the  young  girl's  voice  as  she 
uttered  the  last  words,  so  different  from  its  usual  clear,  firm  sound, 
that  it  went  straight  to  the  innermost  depths  uf  Mr.  Worthing- 
ton's  heart,  with  a  force  beyond  his  power  to  resist.  It  had  been 
the  work  of  years  with  him,  to  strive  to  repress  every  outward  to- 
ken of  an  inward  susceptibility  which  he  resented  in  himself  as 
the  one  defect  of  his  nature.  He  had  subjected  his  feelings  to 
so  strict  a  forbiddance  from  outward  betrayal,  that,  joined  to  his 
natural  marble  exterior,  he  had  succeeded  in  preserving  a  frozen 
incrustation  of  superficial  impenetrability ;  but  there  still  lurked 
a  hidden  fire,  which,  spite  of  all  his  efforts,  burned  with  intense, 
consuming  glow,  and  in  moments  of  sudden  surprisal,  asserted  its 
fierce  prerogative.  Such  a  moment  was  the  one  in  which  the 
daughter  of  her  who  had  been  the  object  of  his  boyish  idolatry — 
who  was  his  first  and  only  love — asked  him  in  her  girlish,  falter- 
ing voice,  if  he  disliked  her — her,  Hetty's  child,  Hetty's  living 
image. 

For  one  instant  only  he  let  his  glance  wander  passionately 
over  hair,  eyes,  cheeks,  lips,  all  so  faithfully  repi'cturing  those 
mirrored  in  his  heart, — that  face  which  lived  &o  indelibly  and 
immortally  there,  though  dead  upon  earth;  for  one  brief  instant 
he  permitted  his  soul  to  identify  and  acknowledge  the  perfect  re- 
semblance, as  he  had  once — and  but  once — suffered  himself  to  do 
before.  But  soon  his  long  habit  of  self-control  prevailed.  It 
enabled  him  sternly  to  fold  his  arms  upon  bis  breast,  and  with  a 
glassy  eye  and  frigid  aspect,  to  say,  "  '  Dislike  you  ?  '  Ah,  no  ! 
But  I  dislike  questioning ;  I  object  to  it, — I  disapprove  of  it,  as 
wholly  unbecoming  in  young  people.  Wait  till  you  are  of  my 
age,  young  lady,  before  you  allow  yourself  to  question  too  closely 
those  around  you." 

And  then,  turning  to  the  'Squire,  and  pointedly  addressing 
him,  he  seemed  to  close  the  colloquy  between  himself  and  Kate 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  95 


CHAPTER     XI. 

KA  rn  lit  ETON,  finding  that  her  uncle  and  Mr.  Worthington  were 
soon  engaged  in  a  discussion  of  some  county  affairs  that  mutually 
interested  them,  walked  away  to  the  end  of  the  terrace  by  her- 
self. She  stood  there  some  little  time,  looking  thoughtfully  upon 
the  ground ;  and  then  she  rambled  into  the  morning  parlour  and 
seated  herself  in  the  old  nook,  on  the  chintz  settee,  opposite  to 
tlie  picture  of  the  seraph  faced  child,  with  its  soft,  blue  eyes,  and 
gentle  smile, — the  first  Fermor  Worthington.  Vague  shadows 
of  thoughts  chased  each  other  through  her  mind  as  she  sat  there, 
with  her  eyes  dreamily  fixed  upon  the  painting.  Her  half-play- 
ful, half-wilful  contention  with  Fermor,  respecting  the  choice 
between  the  pleasure-ride  and  the  duty  of  staying-at-home ;  her 
perverse  decision  to  come  in  defiance  of  him  and  of  her  own 
better  promptings ;  her  captiousness  during  the  ride — the  natural 
result  of  her  previous  act ;  her  sallies  with  Fermor's  father ;  her 
pouderings  why  he  should  think  it  requisite  to  be  so  sternly  un- 
demonstrative, since  she  felt  a  secret  persuasion — arising  from 
she  knew  not  what  instinctive  source, — that  he  was  not  so  totally 
unsusceptible  in  reality  as  he  chose  to  appear ; — all  these,  by 
turns,  limited  through  her  mind.  Upon  the  latter  topic  she  dwelt 
for  a  time,  revolving  Mr.  Wortbington's  strange  ansterity,  his 
resolutely  repulsive  manner,  his  cold  averted  eye,  his  rigid,  mar- 
ble countenance.  Something  of  what  her  nurse  had  hinted,  in  past 
times,  of  still  other  past  times,  came  dimly  into  her  memory,  as 
furnishing  a  curious  clue  to  the  mystery.  Could  it  be  that  that 
haughty,  reserved  man  shrank  from  encountering  her  look  because 
.'led  to  him  that  of  ln-r  mother?  Did  lie  hate  her  because 
sin  reminded  him  of  one  who  had  slighted  him  'i  Or  did  he  but 
avoid  looking  upon  her  laeo  because  it  resembled  the  only  one 
whieh  had  had  power  to  .-hake  him  from  his  pride  of  impenetra- 
bility V  As  this  la.-t  idea  struek  her,  the  \<  >'iii'_'  girl  ut : 


yfl  THE    IRON    COUSIN 

low,  short  laugh,  of  involuntary  triumph  ;  which,  nowever,  gra- 
dually subsided  into  a  murmured  tune,  as  she  continued  to  gaze 
upon  the  sweet,  mild  face  of  the  child  in  the 'picture.  Insensibly, 
even  her  soft  under-song  became  hushed,  and  tears  gathered  in 
her  eyes  as  they  remained  fixed  upon  that  fair,  innocent  counte- 
nance, from  which  the  spirit  of  goodness  and  purity  shone  out. 
It  seemed  to  shed  a  benign  influence  upon  her  feelings,  chasten- 
ing them  of  their  least  good  tendencies,  developing  their  better 
impulses,  and  inspiring  them  with  higher,  wiser,  and  nobler  reso- 
lutions. But  the  deeper  this  influence,  the  more  sensitively  did 
it  seek  to  shroud  itself  from  acknowledgment  or  observation. 
It  seemed  like  something  sacred  ;  too  hallowed,  and  too  solemn, 
to  be  analysed  even  by  herself.  With  a  start  of  angry  shyness, 
therefore,  Kate  Ireton  sprang  to  her  feet  on  hearing  an  ap- 
proaching footstep,  while  still  immersed  in  rapt  contemplation 
of  the  picture. 

It  was  Fermor  Worthington,  who,  finding  her  no  longer  on 
the  terrace  with  his  father  and  the  'Squire,  had  come  in  search 
of  her. 

"  You  are  here  !  I  thought  I  should  find  you  here  ! "  he  ex- 
claimed, with  his  full,  sweet  voice,  which  had  a  peculiar  depth 
and  fervour  in  its  inflexion,  when  he  felt  deeply — the  only  point 
varying  from  the  quiet  self-possession  and  tranquil  firmness  that 
characterized  the  Iron  Cousin's  whole  being.  "  I  knew  you 
would  be  here  !  "  he  said,  as  he  glanced  at  her  moistened  eyes, 
and  then  at  the  painting. 

"How  should  you  possibly  'know'  it?5>  she  said,  with  an 
ungracious  emphasis  on  the  word,  and  turning  abruptly  away. 

"  I  was  sure — I  felt  sure,"  he  replied. 

"  You  make  sure  of  everything  you  suppose.  Why  should 
you  feel  so  sure  that  I  should  be  here  ?  "  she  said. 

"  Your  own  eyes  show  me  that  I  was  right  in  the  belief  which 
taught  me  to  be  so  sure,"  said  Fermor. 

"  Pshaw  ! "  she  exclaimed,  hastily  drying  her  eyes  with  her 
handkerchief;  "you  think  I  have  been  crying  !  Well,  I  scorn 
to  deny  it.  Yes ;  I  was  fool  enough  to  shed  tears  over  my  own 


THE    IttON    COUSIN.  97 

absurd  fancies  ;  but  I  could  laugh  now,  heartily,  at  my  own 
folly,  in  having  indulged  them."  And  Kate,  in  the  midst  of  her 
attempted  show  of  mirth,  wept  for  a  few  moments,  irrepressibly, 
from  mingled  mortification,  generous  disdain  of  telling  a  false- 
hood to  conceal  that  which  she  would  fain  have  hidden,  sudden 
reaction  of  her  late  silent  emotion,  and  a  vexed  sense  of  exposure 
and  self-betrayal. 

"  Why  should  you  be  ashamed  of  feelings  that  do  you  honour, 
rather  than*  lower  you,  in  the  sight  of  one  who  is  not,  I  hope, 
without  feeling  himself?"  said  Fermor. 

*'  I  care  not  for  my  feelings  to  honour  me  in  the  sight  of  any 
one  ;  I  would  have  them  kept  out  of  sight — from  the  sight  of  the 
Iron  Cousin,  above  all,"  she  said  hurriedly. 

"  Why  so  ?  "  he  said,  with  surprise. 

••  He  humours  my  folly ;  he  excuses  my  absurd  crying;  he 
affects  to  sympathize  with  it,  that  I  mayn't  see  he  is  laughing  at  it." 

"  You  do  me  injustice  ;  you  misunderstand  me ;  I  am  inca- 
pable of  laughing  at  genuine  emotion.  There  is  nothing  I  so 
truly  respect — nothing  more  fervently  admire." 

"  It  is  not  a  thing  for  admiration  ;  it  should  not  be  seen," 
*hc  returned,  vehemently. 

They  had  passed  through  the  glass  door,  leading  from  the 
morning-parlour  on  to  the  terrace  ;  and,  stepping  on  a  few  paces, 
in  the  eagerness  of  talk,  had  paused  just  beneath  the  library- 
windows.  Kate,  in  the  irritability  of  her  contending  feelings, 
now  stood  cutting  and  switching  the  straggling  blossoms  near 
her,  with  her  riding-whip,  as  she  spoke. 

1'Vrmor  Worthington  bore  it  for  some  time,  though  wincing 
involuntarily  each  time  a  flower  was  stricken  off.  At  length  he 
said  : — "  I  cannot  bear  to  see  you  do  that — I  wish  you  would 
r<fr:iiu;  I  do  not  like  to  have  those  honeysuckles  ill-treated, — 
by  you,  above  all." 

'•  The  Iron  Cousin  care  for  such  things  ! "  she  said,  in  a 
scoffing  tone  of  wonder. 

'•  The  Iron  Cousin,  as  you  call  bin1,  has  some  soft  places  in 
liis  heart,"  said  Fermor. 

5 


98  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

"  And  in  his  head,  too,  I  should  think  !  "  she  answered 
"  else,  he   would  never   have   such   odd   whims   about   a   fe\» 
flowers." 

"  I  have  told  you  I  have  very  particular  fancies  concerning 
those  honeysuckles  ;  they  are  dear  to  me,  for  many  reasons.  I 
cannot  bear  to  see  them  ill-used  ;  especially  by  you,  Kate." 

"  And  why  by  me,  pray  ?  "  she  returned. 

"  It  makes  you  seem  hard,  disregarded,  unfeeling,  unfemi- 
nine  ;  and  I  don't  think  you  are  either." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?     Perhaps  I  am,"  she  replied. 

"  No,"  he  answered  quietly  ;  and  as  he  said  so,  glanced  at  her 
eyes,  which  were  still  red  with  her  recent  emotion.  She  under- 
stood his  look  ;  for  she  coloured,  and  was  silent. 

"  Why  do  you  take  pleasure  in  appearing  less  kindly  than 
you  really  are  ?  "  said  Fermor.  "  You  seem  as  anxious  to  make 
yourself  out  unamiable,  as  other  girls  are  to  pass  for  all  that  is 
sweet  and  charming." 

"  I  have  no  ambition  to  appear  other  than  I  am  ;  I  would 
not,  if  I  could,  pass  myself  off  for  one  whit  cleverer,  or  pleasanter, 
or  better,  than  I  really  am,"  she  replied. 

"  But  why  make  yourself  out  worse  ?  "  smiled  Ferinor. 

"  And  why  do  you  take  me  to  task  ?  "  retorted  Kate,  as  she 
arranged  the  flowers  she  still  held  in  her  hand,  which  she  had 
brought  from  the  old  woman's  cottage. 

"  Because  I  would  have  my  cousin  Kate  appear  no  less 
gentle-hearted  than  I  believe  her  to  be.  Come,"  he  added,  "  let 
me  gather  you  a  few  of  these  honeysuckles  that  I  have  a  liking 
for,  instead  of  those  which  are  nearly  faded ;  or  I  shall  think  you 
only  retain  them  out  of  contradiction,  and  because  you  will  not 
oblige  me." 

"  Think  what  you  please,"  said  Kate,  as  she  went  on  forming 
them  into  a  nosegay,  which  she  placed  in  the  bosom  of  her  habit ; 
<:  I  cannot  help  the  Iron  Cousin's  hard  thoughts ;  they're  part 
of  his  nature,  I  suppose.  And  why,"  she  added,  ""should  I 
humour  his  prejudice,  by  allowing  that  the  Worthington  wood- 
bine surpasses  Goody  Johnson's?  For  my  part,  I  cannot  per- 
oeivc  any  difference  " 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  99 

It  was  not  that  Kate  wanted  sentiment,  or  that  she  was  de- 
void of  feeling.  But  she  had  a  sort  of  shy  tenacity  about  show- 
mi:  rither.  The  more  conscious  she  was  of  any  powerful  inward 
iMiiotion,  the  more  chary  was  she  of  disclosing  it ;  as  if  there  were 
a  sort  of  affectation  in  permitting  it  to  betray  itself.  She  had  a 
kind  of  impression  that  it  was  more  honest,  more  sincere,  to  err 
on  the  side  of  apparent  want  of  feeling,  than  to  discover  any 
traces  of  what  might  chance  to  seem  acting.  She  had  never  had 
any  one  with  whom  she  could  confidingly  discuss  her  own  feel- 
ings ;  and  no  wonder  that  her  unaided  judgment,  joined  to  her 
peculiar  nature — high-spirited  and  frank — and  her  peculiar  situa- 
tion, indulged  on  all  hands,  led  her  into  the  mistake  of  confound- 
ing bluntness  with  candour,  and  a  show  of  insensibility  with 
genuineness  of  character.  Besides  this,  whatsoever  exercised  the 
strongest  influence  upon  Kate's  imagination  and  good  feeling,  pos- 
sessed at  the  same  time  a  strange  power  of  exciting  her  less 
•amiable  demonstrations  ;  thus,  the  picture  of  the  blue-eyed  child 
had  always  produced  singularly  antagonistic  effects  upon  Kate, 
rendering  her  at  once  really  gentler,  and  apparently  more 
peevish,  more  inwardly  softened,  more  outwardly  irritable.  And 
now,  the  more  she  felt  the  growing  influence  of  every  word,  every 
look,  of  Fermor,  the  more  she  treated  him  carelessly  and  petu- 
lantly. The  more  she  felt  herself  secretly  affected  by  hi» 
opinions  and  wishes,  the  more  she  behaved  as  though  indifferent 
to  either,  liis  rich-toned  voice,  combined  with  so  calm  and 
grave  a  manner,  peculiarly  moved  her,  appealing,  as  it  did,  to  her 
tusk-  her  imagination,  and  her  feeling;  and  accordingly,  the 
more  conscious  she  was  of  its  effect,  the  more  did  it  actuate  her 
to  har.-li,  ungracious  reply. 

u  No  tlill'cTunce,  perhaps,  in  the  shape,  the  scent,  the  colour — 
the  general  fineness,  in  short,  of  the  blossoms,  as  a  gardener 
aiight  judge  them,"  said  Fermor,  in  reply  to  her  last  speech ; 
*'  still,  in  my  <'}cs,  these  same  dear  old  Worthington  honeysuckle! 
are  the  VIM  t,  most  delicious,  and  most  perfectly  beauti- 

ful flowers  in  the  whole  world." 

II.-   i  all<   1   a   .-pray   '    wanls   him,  as  ho  spoke,   inhaling  iti 


>00  THE  IRON  cousnr. 

talmy  breath,  and  passing  his  hand  gently  and  caressingly  be 
ceath  each  blossom,  as  it  yielded  its  treasure  of  beauty  and  per 
fume  to  his  enjoyment. 

Suddenly  Mr.  Worthington's  voice  was  heard,  calling  to  his 
son,  from  the  other  end  of  the  terrace.  Fermor  let  go  the 
branch,  and  hurried  away  to  his  father.  As  he  disappeared 
round  the  angle  of  the  building,  Kate  stood  watching  the  vibrat- 
ing spray,  still  in  slight  motion  from  the  impetus  it  had  received 
when  it  left  his  hand. 

Acting  upon  some  instantaneous  but  irresistible  impulse,  she 
stepped  forward,  plucked  the  spray,  and  hastily  substkuted  it  for 
the  one  she  had  already ;  while  she  tossed  the  latter  over  the 
parapet  of  the  terrace,  as  she  ran  onward  in  obedience  to  her 
uncle's  summons,  which  at  that  moment  reached  her  ear. 

She  found  Mr.  Worthington  and  the  'Squire  in  the  same  spot 
where  she  had  left  them,  on  the  terrace  in  front  of  the  house,  be- 
neath the  sycamore.  Some  discussion  seemed  to  be  taking 
place,  as  to  whether  Fermor  should  accompany  them  back 
to  Heathcote  Hall,  an  arrangement  which  the  'Squire  eagerly 
urged. 

Mr.  Worthington  said,  "  Fermor  may  decide  for  himself;  he 
knows  best  whether  he  should  go  or  not.  I  say  nothing  of  my 
own  wishes ;  I  have  scarcely  any  on  the  subject ;  I  am  accus- 
tomed to  be  alone,  without  feeling  dull.  But  he  shall  judge 
whether  it  be  quite  civil  to  absent  himself,  when  our  neighbour, 
Sir  Dullarton  Ditchley,  talked  of  calling  to  see  us  this  after- 
noon." 

"  I  am  quite  ready  to  stay  at  home,  father,"  said  Fermor. 
M  Thank  you,  'Squire,  another  day  I  will  ride  over  to  Heathcote 
Hall,"  added  he ;  "  perhaps  to-morrow  I  may  be  able  ;  I 
trust  so." 

"  Do,  my  dear  young  fellow,"  he  returned.  "  But  I  could 
have  wished  you  to  come  now  ;  the  ride  back  together  would  have 
been  so  pleasant." 

"  It  would,"  said  Fermor,  as  he  accompanied  the  'Squire  and 
Kate  to  the  foot  of  the  terrace  steps,  where  their  horses  stood; 


THE    IRON   COUSIN.  101 

"  but  my  father  would,  I  know,  prefer  my  remaining,  therefore  I 
Bhall  remain." 

<;  You  know  best,  my  dear  fellow ;  but  for  once,  surely 

stay,  Kate,"  said  the  'Squire,  interrupting  himself,  as  he  lifted 
his  niece  to  Jier  saddle,  and  observed  that  in  mounting  her,  he 
had  disengaged  the  flowers  from  her  bosom;  "you  mustn't  lose 
your  honeysuckles ;  you  made  the  old  woman  get  them  for  you, 
and  brought  them  all  this  way  so  carefully,  that  I  suppose  you 
set  some  store  by  them ;  it  would  be  a  pity  for  you  to  leave  them 
behind  you.  after  all."  And  as  he  picked  up  the  dropped  honey- 
suckles, he' turned,  laughing,  to  Feriuor  Worthington,  and  said, 
"Upon  my  life,  I  think  Kate  was  quite  right;  and  that  Goody 
Wliat'.s-her  name's  woodbine  is  the  finest  ever  seen.  Why,  it's 
as  fresh  as  thougli  it  had  just  been  gathered." 

Fermor  looked  at  the  umvithered  flowers,  and  then  glanced  at 
Kate  Ircton's  face  ;  it  was  turned  slightly  away,  and  the  droop- 
ing feather  of  her  riding-hat  partly  concealed  it;  but  the  portion 
of  her  cheek  revealed  was  crimson. 

"  They  are  not  worth  stooping  for,  uncle,"  she  said ;  "  let  them 
lie ;  I  do  not  want  them." 

"  Nay,  my  dear,  they  are  not  a  bit  faded,"  said  the  'Squire ; 
"you'd  best  have  them;  they're  as  good  as  ever.  I  can  hardly 
believe  they  were  gathered  more  than  two  hours  ago." 

"  They  were  not,"  said  Kate,  who,  with  all  her  faults,  would 
not  have  told  an  untruth  to  save  herself  from  the  bitterest  morti- 
Ik-ation. 

"  How  do  you  mean,  my  dear  ?  "  said  the  'Squire. 

"  No  matter ;  throw  them  away,  and  let  us  be  gone.  Indeed 
I  do  not  care  for  them  now,"  she  said. 

"  Well,  my  dear,  as  you  please ;  but  I  really  thought  you 
seemed  anxious  to  have  them  at  first" 

"  Ay,  at  lirst,  perhaps,  but  not  now;  I've  had  enough  of  them ; 
fliiiL'  them  down,  and  let's  away  at  once,  dear  uncle."  She  nodded 
a  hasty  farewell  t<»  Fermor,  as  she  put  her  horse  into  a  brisk  can- 
ter; and  the  'Squire,  setting  font  in  the  stirrups,  bade  his  young 
fliend  good  bye,  and  galloped  after  her. 


102  THE  IRON  cousra. 

As  Kate  and  her  uncle  rode  out  of  sight,  Fermor  Worthing- 
ton  took  up  the  discarded  honeysuckles,  and  wandered  on  thought- 
fully along  the  smooth  velvet  turf  from  which  the  broad  stone  ter 
race  rose  that  surrounded  the  mansion  on  all  sides. 

As  he  held  the  flowers,  smelling  to  them,  and  looking  wistful- 
ly at  them,  while  he  strolled  on,  in  a  sort  of  reverie,  his  foot 
touched  something  that  lay  upon  the  grass.  It  was  a  small  bunch 
of  the  same  blossoms  as  those  he  had  in  his  hand,  but  faded  and 
drooping.  As  Fermor  leaned  down  to  examine  it  more  nearly,  a 
bright  smile  passed  over  his  face,  and  he  grasped  the  flowers  he 
held  still  closer;  then  he  turned  away  quickly,  and  ran  up  the 
nearest  flight  of  steps  leading  on  to  the  terrace,  crossed  it,  and 
entering  the  house  by  one  of  the  glass-doors,  went  straight  up 
stairs  to  his  own  room,  where  he  poured  out  a  glass  of  water,  and 
carefully  placing  the  stems  of  the  honeysuckles  within,  he  went 
down  to  the  terrace  again,  and  joined  his  father. 

"  So  you  did  not  return  with  your  friends,  Fermor  ?  "  said  Mr. 
Worthington,  as  his  son  approached. 

"  You  left  the  choice  to  me,  sir,"  replied  Fermor,  "  and  I  chose 
to  remain." 

"  But  you  wished  to  go  with  them,  perhaps  ?  " 

"  I  did,  sir ;  but  I  preferred  staying,  when  I  found  that  you 
would  have  to  receive  that  prosy  Sir  Dullarton  by  yourself.  You 
have  not  been  quite  well, — this  warm  weather  makes  you  languid ; 
and  to  have  to  enterta:n  him  alone,  would  not  have  helped  to  im- 
prove your  health,  or  to  raise  your  spirits." 

"  There  is  nothing  amiss  with  my  spirits, — I  hope  I  am  not 
subject  to  the  weakness  of  variable  spirits,"  said  Mr.  Worthington, 
haughtily.  "  That  a  man  should  sufier  himself  to  be  depressed 
or  elated  by  a  cloud  or  two  more  or  less  in  the  sky,  seems  to  me 
absurd, — an  unworthy  folly.  If,  however,  I  unconsciously  am  af- 
fected by  atmospheric  influences,  and,  in  fact,  become  dull  and 
spiritless  without  being  aware  of  it,  I  should  be  sorry  to  have  you 
hold  yourself  filially  bound  to  so  melancholy  a  companionship. 
Pray,  therefore,  make  no  scruple  in  seeking  associates  more  con- 
genial to  your  age  or  taste.  That  you  should  be  attracted  by  the 


E    IRON    COUSIN.  103 

cordiality  and  simplicity  which  characterize  the  worthy  'Squire,  I 
do  not  wonder ;  but  that  a  lad  of  your  discernment  should  see 
anything  airn cable  in  that  malapert  girl,  that  niece  of  his,  passes 
my  comprehension." 

"  Kate  is  unusually  frank-spoken  and  fearless,"  said  Fermor ; 
'  but  it  appears  to  me  that  she  is  as  free  from  intending  offence, 
is  she  seems  unaccustomed  to  guard  or  consider  her  words." 

"  Want  of  consideration  is  a  part  of  want  of  feeling ;  and  an 
unfeeling  girl  is  an  odious  creature,"  replied  Mr.  Worthington. 

••  Kate  is  not  unfeeling,"  said  Fermor,  as  he  recollected  the 
expression  'of  her  face  and  her  brimming  eyes,  when  he  found  her 
alone  in  the  morning-parlour,  opposite  the  picture  of  his  dead 
sister. 

••  May  be  so,"  replied  Mr.  Worth ington.  "  She  may  not  be 
totally  without  feeling ;  but  she  has  a  negligent  ease  in  the  pres- 
ence of  her  elders,  a  certain  tfnquailingness  of  eye,  and  unscrupu- 
lousness  of  tongue,  that  argue  little  for  her  delicacy  or  sensitive- 
ness of  feeling." 

"  She  strikes  me  as  being  self-possessed,  because  she  sees  no 
cause  of  embarrassment ;  and  open  in  look  and  in  speech,  because 
she  has  nothing  to  conceal,"  said  Fermor.  "  Her  unbashfulness 
appears  to  be  rather  that  of  an  artless,  open  nature,  unconscious 
of  any  reason  for  reserve, rather  than  the  effect  of  immodesty,  or 
a  wish  to  wound  or  insult.  It  is  sometimes  a  little  startling,  for 
it  is  unusual ;  but  once  believe  it  to  spring  from  neither  boldness 
nor  rudeness,  and  it  ceases  to  be  offensive  or  disagreeable.  Nay, 
to  me,  there  is  something  quaint  and  attractive  in  her  manner ;  it 
interests  me ;  it  is  original;  unlike  the  ordinary  demeanour  of 
girls  of  her  age ;  peculiar  to  Kate,  but  not  unpleasant." 

•'  1  fowever  you  may  soften  her  defects,  boy,  because  you  find 
her  an  amusing  companion  just  now,"  said  Mr.  Worthington, "  she 
certainly  has  one  radical  imperfection.  She  lacks  the  principle  of 
respect  in  her  character ;  a  terrible  deficiency  in  any  one,  but  par- 
ticularly in  a  woman.  She  respects  nobody.  All  those  among 
whom  slu-  lias  lived,  have  been  so  situated  with  regard  to  her,  as 
to  inspire  affection,  but  not  respect  Iler  nurse,  Martha ;  her 


104  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

governess,  Mrs.  Lindon;  even  her  uncle,  she  loves  rather  than 
respects.  They  have  all  humoured  her,  instead  of  leading  her  to 
look  up  to  them ;  and  have  been  contented  to  win  her  fondness, 
without  having  taught  her  reverence  and  esteem." 

"  Does  not  this  prove  that  her  position,  rather  than  herself,  is 
to  be  blamed  for  the  defect  you  speak  of,  father  ?  "  said  Fermor. 

"  Perhaps  so,"  returned  Mr.  Worthington ;  "  but  the  defect 
exists,  and  whoever  lives  to  see  it,  will  find  that  this  want  of  def- 
erence and  suavity, — which  in  one  so  young  is  deemed  not  only 
excusable,  but  rather  adding  to,  than  detracting  from,  her  pleas- 
ant qualities, — is  an  unfeminine,  unloveable  characteristic.  It 
will  then  be  felt  to  be  a  moral  blemish,  which  all  the  charms  of 
person  and  mind  she  may  possess,  can  hardly  outweigh ;  and  which 
unless  some  mighty  motive  operate  to  cure,  will  remain  inveterate 
to  her  life's  close.  However,  to  recur  to  the  present ;  I  can  con- 
ceive that  to  you,  her  equal  in  age,  this  want  of  respect  is  no  det- 
riment ;  her  liveliness  amuses  you,  her  pertness  is  an  exercise  for 
your  temper  and  forbearance,  her  sauciness  and  flippancy  a  trial 
of  your  power  in  retort;  a  boy-and-girl  war  of  words,  naturally 
enough  possessing  some  charms  for  those  engaged  in  it.  As  I  said 
before,  I  have  no  wish  to  prevent  your  prosecuting  an  acquaintance 
which  promises  to  provide  you  with  entertainment,  when  my  so- 
ciety proves  irksome  or  monotonous.  Use  your  own  pleasure  in 
the  matter." 

"  Your  society  can  never  be  otherwise  than  most  precious  to 
me,  father,"  said  Fermor  Worthicgtan ;  "  my  greatest  pride  is 
when  you  desire  to  have  me  with  you — my  greatest  happiness, 
when  I  can  hope  to  contribute  to  yours.  My  pleasure  is  your 
will.  Let  me  know  it,  that  I  may  fulfil  both." 

"  You  spoke  of  riding  over  to  Heathcote  Hall  to-morrow ;  do 
you  still  intend  to  go  ?"  inquired  his  father. 

"  Not,  if  you  prefer  that  I  should  remain  at  home,"  replied 
Fermor. 

I  speak  of  your  preference,  not  of  mine,"  said  Mr.  Worthing. 
ton,  as  he  rose  from  his  seat,  and  left  the  terrace  to  go  to  the  li- 
brary ;  "  I  give  you  an  option ;  use  it." 


THE    IRON    COUSIN  105 

"I  will  remain  with  you,  then,  father,"  said  Fermor;  "lean 
upon  my  arm  ;  your  step  is  feeble ;  the  afternoon  is  sultry.  I 
will  draw  the  couch  over  to  the  open  windows  ;  it  is  cool  and  sha 
iy  there.  The  sun  has  gained  here  " 


CHAPTER  XII. 

1 1  w;is  many  days  before  Fermor  Worthington  felt  that  he  could, 
with  a  perfectly  free  inclination  and  spontaneous  resolve,  go  over 
to  llcathcote  Hall-  He  said  the  simple  truth,  when  he  avouched 
that  his  father's  will  was  his  own  pleasure.  He  had  no  stronger 
de.-ire  than  to  satisfy  his  father's' every  wish,  and  to  promote  his 
comfort  and  happiness,  by  all  the  means  in  his  power.  He  would 
have  made  any  sacrifice  to  insure  his  father's  gratification  ;  but 
he  was  not  always  able  to  ascertain  what  would  best  insure  it. 
He  was  often  obliged  to  guess  at  it,  and  to  follow  that  course 
which  lie  thought  most  likely  to  bring  about  its  fulfilment.  Mr. 
Morton  Worthington's  jealousy  of  his  own  susceptibility  encased 
him  in  a  panoply  of  haughty  reserve  very  difficult  to  penetrate. 
Hi'  hud  always  bitterly  re-ented  in  himself  the  only  touch  of  soft- 
i  liis  nature — looking  upon  that  which  was,  in  truth,  its  re 
deeming  quality,  as  its  worst  defect ;  and  had,  in  consequence,  striv- 
en perpetually  to  crush  it  into  concealment,  since  he  failed  to  eradi- 
entirely.  Feeling  that  he  could  not  succeed  in  banishing 
affection  and  passion  from  his  heart,  he  resolved  to  keep  them  pent 
then-,  apart  from  the  suspicion  of  any  human  being — from  that  of 
their  objects,  above  all.  He  lied  from  Henrietta  llcathcote,  and 
married  another  woman,  that  it  might  not  be  suspected  how  pro- 
found and  ineurnUe  \va-  the  passion  that  had  met  with  no  return  ; 
and  he  lived  with  his  son,  in  cold,  untemler  distance,  that  Fermor 
might  not  pen-rive  with  hoy  deep  an  affection  lie  was  beloved. 
Mr.  Morton  Worthingtoii's  was  a  curious  pride  of  stoicism,  engen 
dering  a  perpetual  living  martyrdom — needless,  as  it  was  fruit 


106  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

.ess  There  was  no  end  in  it.  but  a  senseless  barren  ambition  to 
be  superior,  as  it  is  called,  to  all  weakness  of  feeling.  He  com 
mitted  the  mistake  of  not  perceiving  that  out  of  some  of  human 
ity's  weaknesses  spring  its  best  strengths.  Hardness,  inflexibili- 
ty, cruelty,  grow  from  unnaturally  smothered  weaknesses;  while 
fortitude,  forbearance,  endurance,  are  the  issue  of  their  wise  fos- 
tering. A  tenderness  spurned  as  unmanly  folly,  may — duly  cher- 
ished— be  turned  to  truest  manliness. 

"  My  dear  fellow  !  I  began  to  fancy  we  were  never  to  see  you 
here  again  !  "  was  the  exclamation  with  which  'Squire  Heathcote 
received  Fermor.  "  Why,  we  have  been  dull  as  a  morass,  with- 
out you.  all  this  time.  Here  have  I  been  longing  to  show  you  a  new 
trolling-tackle  I've  had  down  from  town.  Fine  weather  for  the  pike  ; 
yet  not  a  soul  to  enjoy  a  day's  fishing  with  !  I  counted  upon  you, 
knowing  you  enjoyed  the  sport.  But  I  guess  how  it  is  ;  like  a 
good  son,  you've  been  unwilling  to  leave  home  while  your  father 
was  unwell.  And  how  is  my  good  friend,  Morton  ?  Better,  I 
trust  ?  " 

"  My  father  is  looking  stronger  and  more  cheerful  this  morn- 
\ng  than  I  have  seen  him  for  some  time  past,"  answered  Fermor. 
"  He  bade  me,  of  his  own  accord,  ride  over  and  ask  news  of 
you." 

"  Hearty,  thank  ye  !  but  plaguy  moped.  Out  in  the  air  all 
day,  a  man  has  no  right  to  feel  amiss ;  but,  somehow,  it  makes 
the  fresh  air  itself  fresher  and  welcomer  when  we  have  a  pleasant 
companion.  There's  my  little  girl,  Kate,  is  the  best  companion 
in  the  world ;  I'd  not  exchange  her  against  the  cleverest  talker 
that  ever  drew  breath — no,  not  against  the  Speaker  of  the  House 
of  Parliament  himself — when  I  can  get  her  with  me ;  but,  egad  ! 
ihe's  not  always  to  be  had,  now.  Those  confounded  studies  ! 
They  were  invented  for  the  torment  of  sensible  people,  I  do 
Ihink.  Since  last  I  saw  you,  I  don't  believe  we've  had  one  ra- 
tional morning  together.  Instead  of  spending  the  best  hours  out 
of  doors,  feeling  the  pure  wind  of  Heaven  upon  us,  Kate  has  been 
Btiving  in  that  rotten,  old  stupifying  study,  day  after  day,  till  I 
wonder  she  has  any  brains  left — to  say  nothing  of  cheok-roses 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  107 

Certainly,  books  are  the  pests  of  mankind  !  This  last  week,  Kate 
has  been  like  a  crazy  girl  for  sticking  to  her  lessons.  I  can't 
think  what's  come  to  her.  She's  gone  out  of  her  wits,  I  think  ! 
But,  I  suppose,  I  ought  to  find  it  very  wise,  and  very  praisewor- 
thy, instead  of  vexing  at  it,"  concluded  the  'Squire,  with  his  little 
sigh  of  resignation.  "  Of  course,  you'll  think  this,  my  dear  fel- 
low, who  spoke  up  so  rightly  and  so  properly  about  letting  no- 
thing interfere  with  lesson-hours,  and  the  rest  of  it,  when  you 
were  last  here ;  but  since  then,  there's  no  good  to  be  got  out  of 
my  little  girl ;  she  keeps  so  deuced  hard  at  it !  " 

•  Not  particularly  'since  then,'  uncle,"  said  Kate;  <;  besides, 
I'm  going  to  break  myself  of  such  bad  habits  ;  I  mean  to  give  up 
ri'gular  hours,  and  regular  lessons,  and  learn  by  fits  and  starts, 
by  odd  freaks  and  snatches,  just  when  the  humour  seizes  me. 
••  You're  right.  Application  is  absurdity,  and  study  is  folly, 
are  the  bane  of  the  world.  No  wonder,  when  such  a  heap 
of  'em  (as  Mrs.  Liudon  was  telling  me  yesterday)  was  oiicc  found 
.•ullerted  together,  they  took  to  lighting  fires  with  'em.  Heating 
batlis  was  a  better  deed  than  heating  minds.  Inflammable  paper 
is  useful ;  inflammatory  matter  harmful  !  For  my  part,  I  think 
the  burning  of  the  Alexandrian  Library  is  one  of  the  brightest 
acts  history  has  to  boast.  It's  a  flaming  record — among  their 
other  glorious  exploits — of  what  soldiers  achieve  for  the  benefit 
of  their  race  !  " 

At  this  moment  Mrs.  Lindon  entered,  to  say  that  she  was 
quite  ready,  when  Kate  liked  to  come  and  take  her  sketching- 
lesson. 

"  We  are  not  going  into  tin  study  this  morning;  you  and  I 
are  going  to  drive  over  to  the  village,"  said  Kate.  "  You  said 
I  should  want  a  new  set  of  crayons;  we'll  go  and  see  if  Chalkby 
h;i<  any  of  the  kind  you  like  ;  if  not,  we  can  tell  him  to  send  to 
London  for  some." 

•'  This  afternoon  will  do  for  our   drive   as  well,  will  it  not  ? 
There  is  a  fine  broad  light,  now,  upon  the  old  thorn  tree  we  think 
of  sketching  in.     Why  not  come  at  once  ?    The  paper  is  .- 
ed   ready  on  the  drawing-board,  the  pencils   are  cut  and 


108  THE    IEON    COUSIN. 

pointed  ;  the  colours  are  prepared  on  the  pallette.     Come,  dear 
and  look  at  them  ;  you'll  feel  tempted  to  begin,  if  you  do." 

"  Then,  I  won't  trust  myself  within  temptation,  but  wil) 
uiake  my  escape  at  once,"  said  Kate,  flying  away  for  her  bonnet. 

Mrs.  Linden  silently  followed  her,  and  put  on  her  own  ;  wliilo 
the  'Squire  laughed,  and  said  to  Fermor  "Worthington  :  "  Come, 
my  dear  fellow  !  let  you  and  me  away  to  the  stream.  Or,  stay  ; 
we'll  give  up  our  trolling  for  to-day,  and  we'll  ride  with  Mrs. 
Lindon  and  Kate  to  the  village.  Thus,  I  secure  two  days' 
holiday  ;  for  you  shall  come  over  soon,  and  we'll  have  a  good 
long  morning  with  the  pike,  while,  to-day,  we'll  have  a  canter 
through  the  park.  Or,  what  say  you  to  giving  your  nag  a  rest, 
as  he  has  already  brought  you  from  Worthington,  and  go  with 
the  womankind  in  the  pony-chaise  ?  I  shall  be  close  beside  it ; 
and  we  can  have  a  pleasant  chat  all  together.  It'll  be  quite  a 
gay  party ;  much  more  sociable  than  those  hugger-mugger  les- 
sons. Quite -a  brilliant  idea  of  Kate's,  I  think." 

The  'Squire  was  in  high  spirits,  talking  and  laughing  inces 
santly,  in  his  good-humoured,  hearty  fashion,  as  the  little  caval 
cade  rode  on,  in  the  order  he  had  proposed.  But  they  had  no 
proceeded  far,  when  one  of  his  old  friends  and  brother  sportsineii 
accosted  him,  saying  he  was  come  to  fetch  him  over  to  his  own 
place,  to  meet  a  party  of  choice  spirits,  who  had  suddenly  pro- 
mised to  give  him  their  company  to  dinner.  The  'Squire  could 
not  resist  this ;  but,  making  the  remark,  that  the  only  drawback 
he  knew  to  pleasure  was,  that  it  was  so  apt  to  happen  all  at  once, 
he  took  leave  of  them,  and  galloped  off  with  his  friend. 

"  I  almost  regret  that  you  should  have  missed  this  fine  fore- 
noon for  your  drawing,  Kate,  love,  so  earnest  as  you  seemed  }es- 
terday  to  begin  the  sketch,"  said  Mrs.  Lindon,  as  they  drove  on  t 
"  but  I  think  I  guess  now  why  you  insisted  on  coming  out  instead. 
I  remember  I  owned  I  had  a  headache  the  first  thing  this  morn 
ing,  when  you  asked  me  what  was  the  matter  with  me  ;  and  you 
resolved  to  try  what  a  drive  through  the  fresh  air  might  do  foi 
mo.  Thank  you,  dear  ;  but  you  should  not  have  foregone  youi 
lesson  for  my  sake." 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  109 

"  You  give  me  credit  for  too  much  consideration,"  replied 
Kate.  "  I'm  afraid  I  only  thought  of  my  own  liking,  when 

I  determined  to    drive    out,    instead    of    staying   at    home    to 
sketch." 

"  Candidly  owning  to  a  selfish  motive,  rather  than  take  credit 
for  an  imputed  better  one,  which  you  are  conscious  of  not  deserv- 
ing, is  almost  better  than  original  desert,"  said  Mrs.  Lindon. 

II  And  I  can  well  forgive  your  forgetting  that  I  had  a  headache, 
since  I  have  one  so  frequently,  that  I  hardly  know  myself  when 
it  begins  and  when  it  ends ;  whether  it  is  another,  or  the  same  ; 
whether  it  has  come  on  to-day,  or  whether  it  is  part  of  yester- 
day's.    That  is  one  advantage  of  a  constant  headache ;  you  be- 
come accustomed  to  its  presence." 

"  J>ut  not  inured  to  the  pain,  surely  ?  That  must  always  bo 
;i  renewed  discomfort,"  said  Fermor. 

"  It  is  wonderful  how  it  becomes  endurable,  by  dint  of  per- 
petuity," smiled  Mrs.  Lindon ;  "  it  teaches  you  to  bear  it  pa- 
tiently, and  to  do  nearly  as  well  with  it  as  without  it.  You 
learn,  under  daily,  hourly  headache,  to  move,  think,  speak,  bear 
m>i~r,  listen  to  practising,  understand  questions,  return  intelligi- 
ble answers,  and  do  all  kinds  of  things,  with  a  certain  dulled 
.-ense  of  suffering,  inconceivable  to  those  who  have  a  mere  passing 
acquaintance  with  headache — temporary  headache — headacliu 
now  and  then." 

"  At  any  rate,  yours  is  the  philosophy  of  headache,"  said  Fer- 
mor. "  Do  you  never  try  any  remedy  for  it  ?  "  ho  added. 

"  Sometimes  a  little  Eau  do  Cologne,  applied  to  the  temples, 
or  smelling  to  pungent  salts,  relieves  me  for  a  short  time,"  said 
Mrs.  Lindon.  "  But  I  have  left  my  smelling-bottle  at  home." 

"  Here  it  is,"  said  Kate,  producing  it  from  her  pocket. 

•'  And  yet  you  would  have  me  believe  you  had  no  thought  of 
in y  lieadache,  in  proposing  this  drive,'  said  Mrs.  Lindou,  affec- 
tionately. 

"  I  saw  it  lying  on  the  toilet-table,  and  happened  to  put  in  my 
pocket,  that's  all,''  .<aid  K 

"Thinking  I  might  w. ml  it,"    said    Mrs.    Lind«>n.      "  My  deal 


I  1  0  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

Miild,  your  making  lightly  of  your  attention,  cannot  make  uie  the 
ness  sensible  of  it.  The  whole  thing  is  just  like  you,  Kate  ;  you 
are  ever  proving  yourself  kindlier-natured  by  your  actions  than 
by  your  words.  To  judge  you  merely  by  what  you  say — and  by 
what  you  leave  to  be  inferred  of  yourself,  in  what  you  say — would 
be  doing  you  grievous  injustice.  I  know  you  better  than  to  take 
you  on  your  representation.  You  make  too  modest  an  estimate." 

"  Should  you  not  rather  say,  too  unfair  an  estimate  ?  "Why 
should  Kate  be  unfair  to  herself?  She  is  guilty  of  an  injustice 
against  her  own  good  qualities,  when  she  lets  her  words  show  them 
less  truly  than  her  actions,"  said  Fermor  Worthington. 

"  I  cannot  smooth  my  words,  to  please  any  Iron  Cousin  in  the 
world,"  she  replied. 

"  You  should  make  them  accord  with  your  gentler  impulses, 
for  the  sake  of  your  own  consistency,"  he  returned. 

"  Perhaps  these  gentler  impulses  only  exist  in  your  fancy," 
said  Kate. 

"  Do  you  deny  them  ?  " 

"  I  neither  deny,  nor  admit  them ;  I  simply  choose  to  speak 
according  to  my  nature,"  she  replied. 

"  And  I  ask  no  other  than  that  you  should,"  answered  Fer- 
mor. 

"  Why  should  I  make  a  parade  of  doing  or  feeling  what  is 
only  commonly  right  ?  "  said  she. 

"  Without  parading  it,  you  might  do  it  the  justice  of  not  hid- 
ing it,  as  if  it  were  a  thing  to  be  ashamed  of,"  he  replied. 

"NoUo  hide  it,  is  to  let  it  be  seen;  letting  it  be  seen,  is  to 
show  it ;  I  like  no  such  exhibitions,"  said  Kate. 

When  they  reached  the  village,  they  went  at  once  to  a  shop  of 
rather  important  pretensions,  considering  its  obscure  situation. 
It  claimed  affinity  with  the  Fine  Arts,  qn  the  strength  of  certain 
Bheete  of  paper  displayed  in  the  window,  bearing  gaudily-coloured 
groups  of  flowers,  intersected  with  minute  cross-lines  ;  a  gilt  frame 
or  two ;  a  small  mirror,  divided  off  into  several  minuter  mirrors, 
which  reflected  twenty  little  likenesses  of  yourself  in  perplexing 
multiplicity,  when  you  looked  into  it ;  a  few  skeins  of  Berlin 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  1  1 1 

wools,  in  shades;  gome  purse-silks;  bunches  of  gilt  and  steel 
beads,  with  odds  and  ends  of  rings  and  tassels ;  and  a  seal  or  two, 
stitched  upon  a  remarkably  dingy  card,  engraved  with  several  of 
the  commonest  Christian  names.  Among  these  well-known  arti- 
cles, which  had  lent  their  graces  to  adorn  the  shop-window  for 
many  P.  successive  season,  the  party  were  surprised,  as  they  ap- 
proached, to  see  lying  among  them  a  very  unusual  addition,  in  the 
ehape  of  a  landscape-painting  of  considerable  merit.  It  was  a 
scene  in  Tuscany — one  glow  of  rich  colouring ;  the  deep  blue  sky, 
the  purple  mountains,  the  vivid  green  of  orange  and  vine,  the 
sharp,  well-defined  outline  of  an  arched  bridge,  that  spanned  a 
torrent  in  the  distance,  and  of  a  rude  stone  water-mill,  that  stood 
on  the  right,  in  the  foreground.  An  abrupt  ejaculation  from  Mrs. 
Lindon,  made  Kate  turn  towards  her.  Her  features  were  work- 
in-:  in  strong  emotion;  the  lips  quivered  and  the  eyes  were  full. 

.Vftcr  a  few  moments,  she  recovered  herself  a  little ;  and 
in  a  voice  that  she  tried  to  steady  :  "  Let  us  go  in,  and  choose  the 
crayons." 

"  While  Kute  was  looking  over  the  drawer  which  the  master 
of  the  shop  handed  to  her,  she  heard  Mrs.  Lindon  ask  him,  where 
he  had  obtained  that  picture  in  the  window;  and  whether  it  were 
for  sale. 

The  man  answered  in  the  affirmative ;  and  that  he  had  taken 
it  in  part  payment  of  a  debt,  when  he  was  lately  up  in  town,  of  a 
picture  dealer  who  owed  him  money.  That,  under  these  circum- 
stances, he  should  not  mind  parting  with  it  cheap,  if  the  lady  It-it 
disposed  to  become  a  purchaser. 

"  What  is  the  price  you  would  consent  to  take  for  it  ?  "  falter- 
ed Mrs.  Lindoo. 

"  Twenty  guineas,  madam." 

"  Twenty  guineas !  "  was  echoed  in  a  faint,  hopeless  tone. 

"  If  you  are  any  judge  of  painting,  ma'am — which  I  cannot 
doubt,  since  you  have  distinguished,  with  an  artist's  eye,  tin 
of  the  picture  at  once — you  must  perceive  that  I  have  named  an 
extremely  low  sum — a  mere  song,  in  fact,  for  such  a  work  of  art 
as  that.      IVrhnps   \  ined  it — you  have  not  ro 


112  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

marked  what  a  masterly  hand,  what  a  true  artistic  feeling,  is  per- 
ceptible in  this  composition.  It  is  worthy  of  one  of  our  first  mas- 
ters ;  and  had  I  told  you  it  was  a  Stanfield,  you  might  have  be- 
lieved me,  without  any  compromise  of  your  judgment.  Allow  me 
to  take  it  out  of  the  window  for  you,  madam,  that  you  may  see  ii 
more  closely — in  a  better  light." 

"  No,  no;  I  thank  you;  no,  no;  I  have  seen  it  perfectly  ;  it 
is  not  the " 

"  I  assure  you,  madam,  the  sum  I  have  named  is  a  mere  nomi- 
nal price  for  such  a  gem  of  art  as  that,"  interrupted  the  voluble 
shopman.  "  Twenty  guineas  is  an  absolute  '  bagg-o-tell,'  for  such 
a  picture." 

"  I  know  it;  it  is  not  that  I  think  the  price  high — far  from  it : 
but  that  is  a  sum  beyond  my  means.  Thank  you ;  pray  attend  to 
Miss  Ireton.  Kate,  love,  have  you  all  that  you  require  ?  Let  me 
see  what  you  have  chosen." 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

WHEN  the  selection  was  completed,  and  they  had  left  the  shop, 
Mrs.  Lindon  leaned  back  quietly  in  one  corner  of  the  carriage, 
very  silent,  and  very  pale — but  that  she  generally  was. 

Kate  looked  thoughtfully  out  of  one  of  the  windows,  in  deep 
pro-occupation;  while  Fermor  Worthington  said: — "You  have 
not  your  salts,  Mrs.  Lindon,  and  I  think  your  headache  is  trouble 
some.  Where  are  they  ?  "  v 

"  I  must  have  left  them  behind  me,  on  the 'counter,  at  Mr. 
Chalkby's.  How  could  I  be  so  forgetful  ?  A  bad  example  for 
my  pupil  1 "  she  said  with  her  gentle  smile. 

"  I  will  go  back  for  them,"  said  Fernior,  as  he  unfastened  the 
carriage-door,  and  sprang  out.  "  Drive  on  slowly,  Martin,"  said 
he  to  the  coachman,  "  and  I  will  overtake  you." 

As  Fermor  Worthington  disappeared,  Kate  turned  abruptly 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  113 

to  Mrs.  Lindon,  and  said  :  "  You  were  interested  in  that  picture  ? 
What  is  it?  Whose  was  it?  Was  it  your  husband's  painting  ?  " 

"  It  was  one  of  William's  last  pictures,  he  painted  it  just  be- 
fore he "  and  Mrs.  Linden's  words  were  checked  by  a  low 

sob  she  could  not  restrain. 

"  I  guessed, — I  thought  so ;  it  is  a  scene  in  Italy,  is  it  not  ?  " 
said  Kate. 

•  Yes, — a  spot  near  Florence, — a  view  from  our  window, — tho 
'  campa<rna '  where  we  lodged, — a  humble,  but  most  beautiful 

place, — that  window,  where  we  so  often "  again  Mrs.  Lindon's 

voice  failed  her. 

Kate,  unobservant  of  this  in  her  eagerness,  was  proceeding 
with  farther  questions,  heedless  of  the  pain  she  was  giving,  when 
Fciiimr,  running  up  with  the  smelling-bottle  in  his  hand,  put  an 
end  to  her  speech  ;  and  they  went  on  for  some  time  in  their  for- 
mer order, — Kate  looking  from  the  window  on  her  side,  lost  in 
thou<_r'it ;  Mrs.  Lindon,  sunk  back  in  her  corner;  and  Fermor 
Wortliington,  keeping  silence  because  the  others  were  so  still. 

Presently,  the  carriage  began  to  ascend  a  long,  steep  rise, 
which  lay  just  out  of  the  village,  along  the  road  to  Heathcote 
Hall. 

"  I  shall  walk  up  the  hill,"  said  Kate  to  Mrs.  Lindon,  "  while 
the  carriage  crawls  slowly  on."  She  was  in  the  habit  of  doing 
this  whenever  they  came  that  road  ;  so  her  governess  only  quietly 
bowed  her  head,  and  Kate  jumped  out. 

"  I'll  come  with  you,"  said  Fermor. 

"  No,  no,"  she  said  peremptorily  ;  "  I  had  rather  walk  by 
myself." 

Fermor  Worthington  remained  for  a  time  sitting  silently  op- 
posite to  Mrs.  Linden,  whom  the  heat  of  the  day,  the  previous 
excitement,  and  her  intense  headache,  combined  to  overcome. 
She  sat  perfectly  motionless ;  her  wan,  white  face  gleaming  through 
her  crape  veil ;  her  hands  lying  loosely  clasped  on  her  lap ;  her 
head  slightly  bent  and  drooping  ;  in  a  sort  of  resigned  stupor. 

He  L'lancnl  at  her  with  a  compassionate  eye  as  he  drew  the 
head  of  tho  carriage  forward,  so  aa  to  screen  her  from  the  sun  j 


114  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

and  then  he  looked  forth  in  search  of  Kate.  She  was  nowhere 
within  sight.  He  stretched  as  far  from  the  carriage  side  as  he 
could,  to  obtain  a  far  reach  of  view  behind ;  but  no  Kate  Ireton 
was  to  be  seen.  Without  disturbing  Mrs.  Lindon,  he  softly  let 
himself  out  of  the  carriage,  and  walked  rapidly  down  hill.  He 
went  as  far  as  the  entrance  of  the  village,  and  yet  no  Kate.  He 
paused  here ;  but  after  a  moment's  indecision,  walked  on  again. 

As  he  approached  Mr.  Chalkby's  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  Kate 
Iretori's  white  frock,  just  about  to  enter  the  shop.  He  hastened 
after  her ;  when  she,  perceiving  him,  turned  abruptly  upon  her 
steps,  and  exclaimed,  "  You  here  !  I  thought  I  told  you  I  had 
rather  walk  by  myself." 

"  Yes,  but  I  wished  to  walk  with  you.  When  I  found  you 
were  not  coming  after  the  carriage,  I  came  to  seek  you.  It  is 
not  well  for  you  to  be  seen  walking  alone." 

"  And  why  not,  pray  ?  " 

"A  young  lady — unattended — no  companion — no  servant ;  it 
is  not  usual,  not  seemly." 

"  I  care  little  for  appearances ;  people  may  think  what  they 
please  of  me  ;  it  does  not  put  me  out." 

"  But  it  is  probable  they  may  think  more  unfavourably  of 
your  uncle  than  of  you,  for  letting  you  go  out  unattended." 

':  Oh  !  of  uncle ;  that's  another  matter.  I  should  not  chooee 
him  to  suffer  in  any  one's  opinion  on  account  of  what  I  do.  But 
as  for  people  judging  me  harshly,  I  care  not  one  straw  ;  they  are 
welcome  to  their  own  notions,  as  far  as  I'm  concerned.  So  long 
as  I  know  I'm  not  doing  wrong  myself,  it  matters  not  an  atom 
what  they  think.  Besides,  I  don't  believe  they  trouble  them- 
selves to  think  about  me  at  all.  It  is  not  every  idler  who  busies 
himself  with  coming,  spying,  and  prying  after  nie,  to  see  what  I 
am  doing  when  I  walk  by  myself." 

Fermor  smiled  his  quiet  smile.  "  You  are  displeased  with 
me  because  you  think  I  come  to  try  and  find  out  what  you 
returned  for.  You  are  Avrong.  I  came  simply  to  see  what 
had  become  of  you,  when  I  found  you  missing.  But  since 
you  have  half  owned  that  there  is  something  to  find  out,  let  me 
know  it." 


THE   IRON   COUSIN.  115 

"  And  so  acknowledge  the  iron  cousin's  right  to  rule  mo  ?  " 
said  K;ite,  with  her  arch  look. 

'•  Not  to  rule  you  ;  but  to  share  your  secrets,  and  help  you  in 
thorn,  if  I  can.  I  saw  you  were  going  into  Chalkby's  shop  when 
I  overtook  you;  I  fancy  there  is  something  which  you  have  a 
mind  to  purchase.  Tell  me  what  it  is.  Perhaps  something  that 
comes  to  more  than  you  have  in  your  purse ;  if  so,  let  the  cousin's 
help  out  yours." 

"  Oh,  it  is  not  money  that's  the  difficulty,"  said  Kate,  with  a 
frnnk  laugh ;  "  though  you  are  very  good  to  offer  it  to  me. 
Had  I  needed  it,  I  perhaps  might  not  have  refused,  for  if  you 
wanted  some,  I  should  be  very  glad  to  give  you  mine  ;  relations 
need  not  be  particular  which  it  is  that  helps  the  other  in  such 
matters.  Money  is  not  the  point  in  question ;  my  uncle  gave  mo 
a  twenty  pound  note  the  other  day  to  buy  a  new  habit,  and  I 
have  some  pocket-money  besides,  so  I  am  rich." 

"  Well,  then,  what  is  the  point  in  question  ?  "  asked  Fermor. 

':  See  how  the  iron  cousin  keeps  me  to  the  point !  And 
sticks  to  his  as  if  it  were  a  loadstone  !  "  exclaimed  Kate.  "  A 
point  to  gain  has  irresistible  attraction  for  him !  It  possesses 
more  than  magnet  influence  !  " 

"  I  confess  it,"  smiled  Fermor.  "  A  point  gained  with  you 
is  indeed  a  triumph." 

"  Then  don't  triumph  too  much,  when  I  tell  yon,  that  since 
you  are  so  far  in  my  secret,  I  consent  you  shall  know  it  entirely. 
I  have  found  out  that  Mrs.  Lindon  is  very  anxious  to  possess 
that  picture  in  Mr.  Chalkby's  shop-window ;  it  was  painted  by 
her  dead  husband — in  Italy — where  they  were  very  happy  to- 
gether. I  came  back  to  secure  it  for  her." 

Fermor  Worthington  looked  very  much  pleased.  "  Do  you 
know  its  price  ?  "  he  said. 

•  V.  .-•.  twenty  guineas;  I  overheard  Mr.  Chalkby  tell  Mrs. 
Lind'iti  so,  when  she  asked  him  in  a  low  voice  what  sum  lie 
want.-d  for  it.  She  longed  TO  buy  it,  I  saw;  but  she  said  slit: 
could  not  a  fiord  it.  Now,  I  knc\7  that  luckily  I  could,  for  I 
have  just  that  sum." 


116  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

"  By  giving  up  your  new  riding-habit  ?  "  said  Fermor. 

"  By  doing  well  enough  without  it,"  she  answered ;  "  my  old 
one  is  not  too  shabby  to  wear  ;  it  will  serve  me  for  a  long  time 
yet.  Come,  let  us  go  and  make  our  purchase." 

"  Yours  you  mean  ;  you  will  not  let  me  have  any  share 
in  it  ;  you  refused-  the  help  of  my  purse,  you  know,"  said 
Fermor. 

"  Perhaps  I  may  still  ask  you  for  help — though  not  money- 
help,"  she  replied,  as  they  entered  the  shop. 

The  picture  was  soon  bought,  and  ordered  to  be  sent  up  to 
Heathcote  Hall  that  afternoon  ;  and  then  the  two  young,  people 
hurried  away  to  overtake  the  carriage  as  speedily  as  might  be. 
Fortunately  they  knew  the  hill  was  a  long  one,  and  that  the 
'Squire's  horses  generally  took  it  quite  leisurely,  so  they  had  not 
much  fear  that  Mrs.  Lindon  would  miss  them  before  they  could 
rejoin  her. 

"  We  never  told  Chalkby  how  to  address  the  case,"  said  Kate 
Ireton,  suddenly,  as  they  walked  on.  "  It  ought  to  have  been 
directed  to  Mrs.  Lindon." 

"  No  matter,  it  will  be  addressed  to  you,  Kate ;  you  can  give 
orders  to  have  it  taken  to  your  own  room,  and  then  you  can  pre- 
sent it  how  and  when  you  please,"  said  Fermor. 

"  I  do  not  mean  to  present  it,"  replied  Kate. 

"  Not  present  it  ?  I  thought  you  bought  it  expressly  for  the 
purpose,"  said  Fernior. 

"  I  bought  it  that  Mrs.  Lindon  might  possess  it,  not  that  I 
might  give  it,"  said  Kate ;  "  that  is  what  I  want  you  to  help  me 
in.  I  want  you  to  give  it  to  her  as  your  gift." 

"  As  mine,  Kate,  when  it  is  yours  ?  Do  you  think  I  would 
consent  to  such  a  thing  ?  '  said  Fermor. 

"  You  must  consent  to  it,  or  you  refuse  me  the  help  you 
offered  me, — promised  me,"  she  said,  decisively. 

"  I  promised  no  such  help  as  that,"  he  returned. 

"  You  offered  money-help,  which  I  didn't  want ;  but  you  alsc 
said  you  would  assist  nic  in  what  I  was  about ;  that  that  was 
why  you  wished  to  know  my  secret— that  you  might  help  me/1 
ihe  said,  pointedly. 


THE    IRON    COU8IW.  117 

"  If  I  could,"  he  rejoined,  with  as  marked  au  emphasis. 

"  And  you  can,"  she  replied,  eagerly.%  ''  What  is  to  hinder 
/ou  from  doing  as  I  wish  you — as  I  ask  you  ?  " 

"  I  canuot  tell  or  act  a  lie  even  to  oblige  Kate  Ireton,  and 
much  pain  as  it  gives  me  to  deny  her  anything  she  asks  or 
wis-hes."  said  he,  firmly. 

"  So  much  for  the  iron  cousin's  aid  !  "  she  said,  with  a  short 
laugh ;  "  he's  hard  as  adamant  in  refusal,  but  no  stabler  than 
water  to  rely  upon." 

Fennor  looked  extremely  grave.  <;  You  are  wrong,  and 
you  know  it,  Kate,  to  taunt  me  with  failing  you  in  such  a 
point  as  this.  You  know  you  ought  not  to  have  asked  it  of 
inc." 

"  Knowing  the  iron  cousin's  unyieldingness,  perhaps  I  ought 
not,"  she  said. 

'•  Knowing  his  hatred  of  deception,  you  ought  not,"  he 
returned. 

"  I  hate  deception  as  much  as  you  can  do,"  she  retorted. 

"  Then  why  ask  me  to  join  you  in  carrying  on  one  ?  There 
must  be  a  falsehood  told,  and  persevered  in ;  feints  devised  and 
sustained  ;  and  all  for  what?  " 

"  Because  I  do  not  like  to  give  this  picture  to  Mrs.  Lindon 
as  my  present — as  my  purchase.  It  seems  like  reminding  her 
that  1  have  more  money  at  my  command  than  she  has;  that  the 
pupil  is  richer  than  the  governess ;  that  a  young  girl  has  more 
})«v.ir  than  a  grown  woman.  It  is  almost  an  impertinence  as  a 
gift  fron:  me  to  her ;  whereas,  if  you  presented  it  to  her,  there 
would  be  no  difficulty, — no  indelicacy." 

•  I  ~.<e  your  own  good  sense,  Kate,  and  you  will  perceive  that 
there  is  no  indelicacy  at  all  in  the  case.  There  is  only  false 
delicacy  in  what  you  have  urged.  Mrs.  Lindon  knows  that  your 
uncle's  indulgence  furnishes  you  with  more  money  than  she  pos- 
•MKffi  ;  this  is  a  simple  fact,  reflecting  credit  or  discredit  upon 
neither  you  nor  her.  That  you  are  willing  to  part  with  some  of 
it  to  procure  her  a  gratification,  evinces  a  generous  feeling,  which 
ran  but  add  to  her  plea-uro,  instead  of  mortifying  her.'1 


U8  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"But  that  is  the  very  thing  I  don't  like, — appealing  to  lay 
claim  to  generosity  of.  feeling,  when,  for  my  part,  I  can  see  no 
generosity  in  making  presents  with  uncle's  money." 

"  True ;  but  this  is  your  own ;  he  gave  it  to  you  for  a  spe 
cific  purpose, — to  procure  you  an  object  you  wanted.  This  you 
give  up,  that  you  may  obtain  for  Mrs.  Lindon  something  upon 
which  she  has  set  her  heart.  Why  deprive  her  of  the  pleasure 
of  knowing  this?" 

"  I  detest  a  display  of  kindness, — all  the  fuss  and  ostenta- 
tion of  making  a  present,"  said  Kate;  "I  wonder  how  I  came 
to  think  of  making  one.  After  all,  it's  very  awkward  and  ridic- 
ulous,— the  having  to  make  a  pretty  speech,  and  seeming  to  ex 
pect  to  be  thanked,  and  so  on.  I  think  I  shall  put  the  picture 
in  her  room,  and  let  her  find  it,  and  say  nothing  about  it." 

"  That  would  be — considering  your  own  feelings  instead  of 
hers — sparing  yourself  some  momentary  perplexity  which  exists 
only  in  idea.  Let  the  same  generous  impulse  which  caused  you 
to  buy  the  picture,  be  in  your  words  and  manner  at  the  time  you 
present  it,  and  there  will  be  no  difficulty, — no  awkwardness." 

"  Pshaw !  "  exclaimed  Kate,  "  all  would  be  avoided  if  you'd 
only  do  as  I  wish  you." 

"  You  cannot  really  wish  me  to  do  what  I  have  shown  you 
would  be  wrong,"  replied  Fermor. 

"  Then  I  wish  I  had  never  bought  this  picture !  "  she  cried, 
hastily  ;  "  it  is  a  vexation  altogether." 

"  Do  not  repent  a  good  feeling  because  you  now  happen  to 
be  under  the  influence  of  a  bad  one, — a  weak  one,"  said  Fermor. 

"  The  iron  counsel  of  the  iron  cousin ! "  she  said,  as  they 
came  up  with  the  carriage.  He  would  have  assisted  her  in  ;  but 
she  opened  the  door  herself,  and  took  her  seat  by  Mrs.  Lindon's 
Bide,  exclusively  addressing  her  conversation  to  her  until  they 
reached  home. 

When  they  arrived  at  the  Hall,  Mrs.  Lindon  asked  Fermor 
if  he  would  stay  and  dine  there,  as  he  usually  did,  when  he  came 
over ;  but  he  declined,  on  the  score  of  his  father's  having  said 
be  should  expect  him  home  to  dinner. 


THE    IRON    COUSIN  119 

u  And  we  expect  you  to  dine  here,"  said  Kate,  "  so  you  will 
•tay." 

"  I  cannot ;  I  told  you  my  father  expressly  said  he  should 
wait  dinner  for  me,"  Fermor  replied. 

"  And  you  would  rather  dine  with  him  than  with  us  ?  r  per 
sisted  Kate. 

"  T  would  rather  his  wishes  should  be  fulfilled  than  my  own,' 
was  Former's  answer. 

"  Adroitly  turned  !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  However,  I  shall  not 
press  you." 

"  I  need  no  pressing,  I  should  be  only  too  glad  if  I  could 
stay,  but  I  cannot.  I  cannot  disappoint  my  father,  or  keep  him 
waiting." 

"  Pray  do  not  keep  him  waiting  one  moment  on  our  account," 
said  Kate,  turning,  with  a  provoking  air  and  curtsey,  towards  the 
door. 

Fermor  smiled,  and  yet  looked  a  little  pained  too. 

He  returned,  and  shook  hands  with  her.  Then  he  said,  with 
a  brightened  expression,  "  Perhaps  you  will  ride  home  part  of 
the  way  with  me,  Kate?  I'll  tell  them  to  let  Ben  Dimble 
know  he  is  to  bring  round  your  pony  and  attend  you  on  ^orse- 
Wk." 

"  Do  no  such  thing,  if  you  please.  I  shall  be  busy  this 
nft.Tiionn,  and  cannot  ride." 

"  Kate  is  going  to  be  very  assiduous,  and  make  up  for  this 
morning's  lost  time,"  said  Mrs.  Lindon.  "  There  will  still  be 
several  hours'  good  light  for  our  sketch." 

"  Do  not  answer  for  mo  too  soon,"  said  her  pupil ;  "  I  am  not 
inclined  to  sketch, — I  am  not  going  to  set  to  work  at  lessons.  1 
shall  take  a  long  walk  with  my  Mattykin ;  it's  an  age  since  she 
and  I  have  had  one  together." 

"  And  you  will  not  ride  with  me  ?  "  said  Permor. 

(i '  I  should  be  only  too  glad  if  I  could,  but  I  cannot,'  as  you 
say,"  she  replied,  with  a  l.-iugh,  an<l  a  repetition  of  her  saucy 
curt 

Fcrinur  Worthington  walked  a«  far  as  the  room-door;  tbcrt 


120  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

he  paused,  turned  and  said,  "  Good  bye,  Mrs.  Lindon.    Good  bye 
Kate." 

"  Good  bye,"  she  returned. 

He  went  out.  She  heard  him  cross  the  Hall,  then  stand  for 
a  moment  upon  the  steps  at  the  entrance  before  he  got  on  horse- 
back. In  another  moment  she  knew  he  would  be  mounted,  and 
in  sight  of  the  window,  towards  which  he  had  the  habit  of  look- 
ing up,  to  exchange  a  farewell  nod  with  her  and  her  uncle,  who 
used  to  stand  there  together  to  see  him  depart  whenever  he  left 
them. 

Kate  had  remained  on  the  spot  where  Fermor  had  left  her  ; 
but  now  she  suddenly  drew  back  a  few  paces  from  her  vicinity  to 
the  window. 

"  These  crayons  are  better  than  those  we  had  last,"  observed 
Mrs.  Lindon,  who  was  engaged  in  unfastening  the  packet  she 
had  brought  with  her. 

But  Kate  did  not  hear  her.  All  at  once,  the  young  girl 
darted  out  of  the  room,  sped  up  the  great  staircase,  which  led 
from  the  centre  of  the  fine  old  hall ;  and  ran  into  one  of  the 
upper  rooms,  from  the  window  of  which  there  was  an  extensive 
view  down  the  avenue  and  across  the  park. 

She  stood  at  that  window  for  a  considerable  space  of  time, 
looking  out  earnestly  ;  until  at  length,  the  intervening  trees 
shutting  out  from  her  ken  the  object  that  she  was  pursuing  with 
her  eyes,  she  slowly  walked  to  her  own  room,  and  arranged  her 
dress  by  the  time  the  dinner-bell  should  ring. 

Before  this  sounded,  however,  a  servant  came  to  tell  her  that 
a  packing-case,  addressed  in  her  name,  had  arrived,  and  awaited 
her  orders. 

"  Bring  it  here,  Robert,"  she  replied. 

The  man  brought  up  the  case  and  left  the  room,  having,  by 
her  direction,  unfastened  the  screws  that  closed  it. 

The  picture  was  not  too  large  or  too  heavy  for  Kate  to  lift ; 
and  she  took  it  out  of  the  case,  intending  to  carry  it  straight  into 
Mrs.  Lindon's  room,  and  leave  it  there,  as  she  had  said  she 
would.  But  she  stopped,  set  it  down,  and  stood  looking  at  it 


TIIK  ino\  cousm.  121 

thoughtfully,  as  these  ideas  passed  through  her  mind.  "  It  is 
true,  it  would  spoil  the  grace  of  the  present,  were  I  to  put  it 
there,  without  a  word,  without  asking  her  to  accept  it.  Why 
should  I  not  overcome  this  silly  awkwardness,  this  bashful  non- 
sense ?  It  is  so ;  he  was  right ;  it  is  mere  selfishness ;  it  is 
studying  my  own  feelings  instead  of  hers,  to  shrink  from  saying 
a  few  kind  words,  because  I  find  them  embarrassing  to  speak.  I 
will  try — I  will  do  it." 

Kate  put  the  picture  back  into  the  case,  and  went  quietly 
down  into  the  dining-parlour,  where  she  found  Mrs.  Lindon 
sitting  in  an  easy  chair,  with  her  back  to  the  light.  But  the 
gentle  governess  immediately  sat  up,  and  began  speaking  cheer- 
fully to  her  pupil  of  their  pleasant  drive,  of  the  'Squire's  visit, 
of  when  they  might  expect  to  see  him,  and  of  the  expediency  of 
sending  a  groom  to  attend  him  home,  as  he  would  probably 
return  after  nightfall. 

"  Don't  talk ;  I  know  you  have  a  bad  headache,  and  yet  you 
arc  exerting  yourself  to  entertain  and  amuse  me,  because  uncle  is 
away,"  said  Kate. 

••  \Vliv  should  I  let  my  headache  interfere  with  your  comfort, 
dear  ?  "  said  Mrs..  Lindon.  "  I  must  not  be  dull  if  I  can  help  it; 
it  would  be  very  hard  upon  you,  if  I  were  to  condemn  you  to  si- 
lence, because  I  feel  inclined  to  be  silent  myself.  It  is  part  of 
your  happy  ago  to  be  full  of  remark,  of  question,  of  lively  prate 
of  all  kinds  :  why  should  I  be  so  selfish  as  to  repress  your  very 
natural  inclination  to  talk,  whenever  I  happen  to  have  a  stupify- 
inir  headache.  I  ought  rather  to  watch  lest  I  become  taciturn 
and  frumpish,  and  an  unfit  companion  for  a  girl  of  your  y« 
than  .<*-ck  to  discourage  in  you  what  is  not  only  harmless,  but 
j.rotitaUc.  It  is  an  instinct  in  youth  to  be  talkative  and  inquir- 
ing ;  which  impels  them  to  seek  information,  to  argue  upon  it, 
and  gather  fresh  ideas  from  others,  and  to  develop  their  own. 
A  reasonable  d«-a.rcc  of  loquacity  in  young  people  is  not  only  to 
be  toli'nit.'d,  buc  to  be  encouraged,  as  a  healthful  exercise  both 
physical  and  mental.'1 

"  But  lo  juacity  is  not  wholesome  for  a  headache  ;  therefore 
c 


122  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

while  yours  lasts,  I  hope  you  will  not  talk,"  said  Kate.  <;  Drink 
this  cool  wine-and-water — it  will  do  you  good  after  your  drive  in 
the  heat  of  the  sun  ;  and  then  lean  back  in  your  chair,  and  don't 
speak  another  word  to  me  till  dinner  is  served."  Mrs.  Lindon 
smiled  gratefully  at  Kate,  as  the  young  girl  placed  cushions  be- 
neath her  head,  drew  down  the  blind  near  her,  making  these  ar- 
rangements, and  issuing  these  orders  for  her  comfort,  with  an  air 
of  playful  despotism. 

"  The  eating  has  done  me  good  ;  this  nice  simple  roast  mut- 
ton and  bread  has  quite  taken  my  headache  away,"  said  Mrs. 
Lindon,  when  they  had  nearly  dined.  "  I  fancy  I  fasted  a  little 
too  long,  under  the  idea  of  curing  it ;  when,  on  the  contrary,  I 
should  have  eaten  a  bit  of  crust  or  a  biscuit.  I  shall  be  wiser 
another  time.  And  now  that  the  pain  has  lessened,  we  will  have 
some  gossip  together,  dear  Kate.  Tell  me  what  you  think  of 
that  book  I  was  reading  to  you  yesterday  evening,  while  we  were 
sitting  under  the  tree  by  the  brook-side ;  or  chat  to  me  of  any 
thing  you  will ;  only  let  me  hear  your  pleasant  voice,  dear.  A 
shame  to  have  doomed  it  to  be  mute  so  long !  " 

"  Now,  as  you  are  really  able  to  talk,  and  to  hear  me  talk." 
said  Kate,  "  I  will  tell  you  that  I  have  a  favour  to  ask  you." 

"  A  favour,  my  dear  child  !  I  shall  be  only  too  delighted  to 
grant  it !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Lindon. 

"  I  hope  you  will  be  delighted  by  granting  this,"  said  Kate; 
colouring,  and  laughing. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Kate,  love  ?  "  said  her  governess,  sur- 
prised by  her  unusual  manner — a  mixture  of  shyness  and  pleased 
agitation. 

Her  look  was  generally  a  frank,  unabashed,  open  regard, — 
quite  as  modest  and  unbold  an  expression  as  her  present  one  ; 
but  just  that  clearness  and  transparency  of  countenance  which 
belongs  to  innocence  of  heart,  and  a  youth  that  has  known  neither 
check  nor  care.  Now,  there  was  a  flush  upon  her  face,  very  be- 
coming, too,  in  its  evidence  of  feeling. 

"  If  you  will  come  up  into  my  room  with  me,  I  will  show  you, 
—  I  will  tell  you,"  she  replied 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  123 

"  I  am  quite  ready  to  go  with  you  now,  dear  ;  if  you  have 
finished  dinner,  I  have,"  said  Mrs.  Lindon. 

'•'  No  hurry — that  is — yes  ;  let  us  go  at  once,"  returned  Kate, 
getting  up  from  her  scat,  and  walking  with  a  mingled  air  of  con- 
sciousness and  determination  out  of  the  room. 

Mrs.  Lindon  followed  her,  wondering  what  this  could  mean. 
As  they  entered  Kate's  apartment,  she  went  straight  to  the  pack- 
ing-case, drew  away  the  lid,  and  said,  "  You  wished  to  have  this 
picture.  I  hope  you  will  let  me  give  it  to  you ;  it  is  yours. 
The  favour  I  had  to  ask  you  is  this, — that  you 'will  accept  it, 
and  not  thank  me." 

Mrs.  Lindon  was  overpowered.  She  trembled  violently,  and 
broke  into  a  flood  of  tears.  "  My  dear  child  1  my  dear  kind 
child  !  "  was  all  she  could  for  some  moments  command  voice  to 
utter. 

"  I  am  going  to  leave  you  to  yourself,  that  you  may  have  the 
luxury  of  looking  at  your  picture  without  having  any  one  to  look 
at  you,"  said  Kate.  "  Here,  lie  down  upon  my  bed ;  I'll  just 
draw  the  curtains  between  you  and  the  air  from  the  open  window, 
and  then  you'll  be  cool  and  shaded,  while  there  will  be  good  light 
upon  your  treasure.  Meantime,  I  shall  go  and  have  my  ramblo 
with  Matty." 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

"  PROUD  and  nappy  ia  your  poor  old  Matty,  my  darling  Miss 
Kat>>,  to  have  you  calling  her  to  come  and  take  a  walk  with  you, 
onct!  atrain.  Ah  well,  well,  it  'minds  mo  of  old  times,  when  we 
us.  (1  to  go  streaming  about,  through  the  copses  and  dingles,  a 
blackberrying,  or  a  Maying,  or  a  nutting,  or  avi'let  hunting,  you 
and  mo  together ;  you  in  my  arms,  and  me  on  my  legs — very 
happy,  wasn't  wo  ?  And  what  a  dear  little  rogue  you  was,  with 
your  '  Carry  me,  curry  mo  1  '  for  ever.  You  knew,  fust  enough 
lays  you,  currying  was  easier  than  walking — for  them  as  is  car- 


124  •          THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

ried,  leastways — and  nothing  'd  serve  you,  bless  you,  but  carried 
you  must  be.  A  sad  rumbustical  tyrant  you  was,  surely  ;  bless- 
ings on  you  !  "  said  the  nurse,  fondly. 

"And  I  am  going  to  be  just  as  tyrannical -as  ever  this  even- 
ing, Mattykin,  just  to  make  it  seem  to  you  exactly  like  the  happy 
old  times  together.  I'm  going  to  make  you  tell  me  all  the  old 
tales  you  can  think  of;  as  you  used  to  do,  you  know,  when  we 
rambled  out  together,"  said  Kate. 

"  Sure,  Miss  Kate,  my  darling  !  What  shall  it  be  ?  Puss 
in  Boots,  Jack  and  the  Bean-stalk,  the  White  Cat,  or  Cin- 
derella ?  " 

"  No,  none  of  those,  Mattykin,"  replied  Kate,  laughing;  "but 
some  of  your  old-world  stories,  that  I  like  so  well  to  hear.  Of 
the  proud,  cold  Worthingtons ;  of  the  stately  lady-mother  ;  of 
the  gay,  hard  father ;  of  the  haughty,  reserved,  scholarly  son ; 
of  his  sudden  marriage  ;  of  the  blue-eyed  little  girl,  the  first 

Fermor  Worthington  ;  and  of but  no,  you  knew  nothing  of 

him ;  ho  was  born  abroad,  and  when  he  was  brought  to  England 
by  his  mother,  and  stayed  a  month  at  Worthington,  you  were 
away,  with  mine." 

"  Ah,  you're  talking  of  the  present  Ferinor — the  boy — the 
heir,"  said  Matty.  "  He's  a  fine  young  gentleman,  I  hear ;  I 
Bee  little  of  him,  and  I  knew  nothing  of  him,  when  he  was  a  baby. 
I  can  tell  you  nothing  about  his  younger  days ;  they  were  all 
spent  in  foreign  parts,  more's  the  pity." 

"  Not  all,"  replied  Kate.  "  He  spent  a  month  in  his  Eng- 
lish home ;  and  that  little  month  seems  to  have  made  more  im- 
pression upon  him  in  some  things — in  tastes,  and  likings,  and 
home  fancies  and  feelings  and  attachments — than  all  the  rest  of 
his  life.  I  rarely  hear  him  mention  anything  that  happened,  or 
any  place  that  he  stayed  at,  abroad  ;  but  of  his  childish  visit  to 
Worthington  Court,  he  always  talks  with  delight.  It  is  the  only 
thing  that  moves  him  to  speak  warmly,  and  out  of  his  usual  quiet, 
grave  way.  Fermor  Worthington  is  thoroughly  English  in  his 
manners  and  likings  ;  and  though  he  had  still  his  foreign  dress, 
when  he  first  came  over  here,  yet  he  is  now  as  complete  an  Eng- 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  128 

liah  lad  in  his  appearance,  as  in  everything  else.  I  shouldn't 
have  let  him  claim  the  relationship  between  us,  if  he  hadn't  been 
true  English — in  heart,  in  look,  in  speech — as  he  is  by  descent. 
The  Worthingtons  arc  a  fine  old  English  family,  and  he  is  worthy 
of  being  their  representative.  He  looks  an  Englishman,  every 
inch  of  him  ;  and  therefore  he's  welcome  to  call  me  cousin,  and 
I  don't  mind  calling  him  so.  But  Matty,"  said  Kate,  suddenly 
interrupting  herself,  "  stop  a  moment ;  I  mustn't  forget  to  give 
uncle's  old  favourite  what  I  brought  for  it." 

She  stepped,  as  she  spoke,  to  the  gate  of  a  paddock,  in  which 
grazed  a  bay  mare,  that  had  once  been  a  magnificent  hunter ; 
now  past  service,  and  permitted  to  enjoy  its  old  age  in  luxury 
and  ease.  It  was  cropping  its  evening  meal  of  clover ;  but  at 
the  sound  of  Kate's  voice,  it  came  neighing  and  sidling  up, 
to  receive  the  morsel  of  sugar,  or  some  such  delicacy,  from  her 
hand. 

As  she  patted  its  sleek,  intelligent  head,  she  turned  to  Matty, 
and  said  :  <:  I  have  often  intended  to  ask  you — you  who  know 
all  the  secrets  and  legends  of  our  house — how  it  comes  that  this 
creature,  of  all  uncle's  horses,  has  no  name.  I  have  never  heard 
it  called  anything  but  '  the  bay  mare;'  while  all  the  rest  have 
their  especial  titles.  Once,  when  uncle  was  caressing  it,  I  was 
going  to  ask  him  to  tell  me ;  but  there  was  something  in  his  face 
that  made  me  break  off,  when  I  had  just  put  my  question.  I 
thought,  perhaps,  it  had  been  called  after  my  mother." 

"  No,  not  after  Miss  Hetty  (  but  after .  You  asked 

me  for  an  old  talc  just  now,  Miss  Kate,  my  darling.  This  is  one, 
There  is  an  old  story  about  this  bay  mare." 

':  I  thought  so  !     Tell  it  me,"  said  Kate,  eagerly. 

"  You  must  know,"  began  Matty,  setting  her  back  against 
Ihe  bole  of  one  of  the  nearest  trees,  while  her  young  mistress 
stood  fondling  the  old  horse,  "  you  must  know  that  once  upon  a 
tiiiii-,  this  mare  was  the  finest  animal  in  all  master's  stud.  Its 
coat  was  bright  and  shining  as  a  looking-glass,  its  eyes  were  clear 
AS  crystal,  it  was  fleet  as  an  arrow,  yet  as  easy  as  a  boat  on  a 
lake.  It  w:i3  a  birthday  present  from  his  mother  to  Mr.  Harry, 


126  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

and  very  proud  and  fond  of  it  be  was,  to  be  sure.  Well,  he  had 
only  just  had  it,  and  was  casting  about  for  a  name  for  it — for 
he'd  given  his  mother's  name  a'ready  to  another  of  his  hunters — 
when  there  came  into  this  part  of  the  country  a  family  of  the 
name  of  Darner — very  high,  but  very  poor — as  the  story  went. 
It  was  said  that  they  were  related  to  Dukes  ;  or  that  they  had 
an  Earl  or  a  Marquis  in  the  family,  or  perhaps  even  a  barrow- 
knight,  for  aught  I  know*  Certain  it  is,  however,  that  there  was 
very  high  blood  in  the  family,  and  they  held  their  heads  very 
high,  according ;  and  moreover,  their  only  daughter  was  called 
the  honourable  Miss  Darner — the  honourable  Laura — as  many 
named  her.  A  pretty,  clever,  dashing  young  creature  she  was, 
to  be  sure  !  Such  a  figure  for  horseback,  or  for  an  archery- 
meeting,  or  an  assize  ball,  or  the  harp,  which  she  played  like  any 
King  David,  so  beautiful,  she  did  !  Well,  our  Mr.  Harry  met 
Miss  Darner  at  a  many  of  these  places  ;  and  then  he  called  his 
bay  mare  '  the  honourable  Laura,'  and  we  servants  could  all 
guess  how  it  was  with  Mr.  Harry's  heart.  He  was  joked  a  deal 
about  it,  by  his  young  friends  and  neighbours — the  young  gen- 
tlemen that  rode  out  hunting  and  shooting  with  him.  But  he 
used  to  laugh  it  off,  and  say  she  was  too  good  for  him,  too  high 
for  him,  too  clever  for  him ;  for  our  Mr.  Harry  was  always 
modest ;  and  the  honourable  Laura,  besides  being  a  nobility  lady, 
born  and  bred,  was  such  a  one  at  her  books,  and  her  drawing, 
and  her  music  !  Well,  one  day — Mr.  Harry  had  been  all  night, 
over-night,  with  Miss  Darner,  at  our  county  ball ;  and  Betty 
Blowze,  the  barmaid  at  the  Star  Inn  at  Dingleton,  where  the 
large  assembly-room  is,  and  where  the  county  balls  was  always 
held,  told  me  that  our  young  'Squire  was  the  honourable  Laura's 
partner  best  part  of  the  time — what  should  I  notice  but  master 
(my  young  master,  as  he  then  was)  dressed  out  very  nice  and 
neat  the  first  thing  in  the  morning,  no  boots  and  spurs,  no  hunt- 
ing-coat, but  a  dark  suit  fit  for  an  evening,  and  standing  in  the  hall, 
humming  a  tune,  with  his  riding-whip  in  his  hand,  waiting  for 
his  horse  to  be  brought  round.  I  noticed,  too,  that  he'd  got  a 
flower — not  »  common  flower,  but  one  of  the  'azoticks'  out  of 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  127 

Missus's  'caservatry' — in  the  buttonhole  of  his  coat;  and  hit 
eyes  were  bright  and  dancing,  and  his  mouth  very  pleasant-look- 
ing; and  when  I  dropped  him  a  curtsey,  he  smiled  and  nodded 
at  me,  and  said  :  '  Is  that  you,  Martha  ?'  quite  in  a  joyful  tone, 
as  if  he  was  glad  to  see  me — though  there  was  nothing  to  be 
glad  at,  but  his  own  thoughts.  Well,  I  asked  him,  if  the  old 
'Squire,  hia  father,  or  Madam,  his  mother,  enquired  for  him, 
where  I  was  to  say  he  was  gone  ;  but  he  made  as  if  he  didn't 
hear  me,  and  turned  away,  and  went  on  humming  his  tune,  and 
winding  the  lash  of  his  whip  round  and  round  his  fingers.  1 
stood  loitering  about  till  the  horses  were  brought  to  the  hall- 
door,  that  I  might  hear  if  anything  was  said  that  should  let  me 
know  farther,  for  I  began  to  be  curious." 

"  You  often  are  curious,  Mattykin,"  said  Kate,  laughing 
u  it's  a  failing  of  yours,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"  To  be  sure,  Miss  Kate,  my  darling ;  how  should  I  have 
picked  up  so  many  odd  stories  to  amuse  you  with,  if  I  hadn't 
made  it  my  business  to  find  out  all  about  'era,  and  learn  the  rights 
of  'em  ?  " 

"  True;  go  on  with  your  present  one,"  laughed  Kate. 

"  Well,  there  stood  Dick  Dimble — that  was  Ben's  father,  you 
know,  Miss  Kate,  he  was  groom  then — with  the  saddle-horses,  one 
of  which  was  this  very  bay  marc,  the  honourable  Laura,  'Have 
a  care  how  you  urge  her  too  hard  this  morning,  Mr.  Harry,  sir, 
Bays  Dick;  '  she's  full  of  corn,  and  is  rather  apirity,  and  up  to 
all  manner  of  tricks,  to-day.'  '  Never  mind,  Dick,'  says  master 
1  a  little  spirit's  not  amiss  I  She's  a  beautiful  creature  !  Faint 
heart  never  won  fair  lady ! '  And  he  leaned  down  and  patted  the 
creature's  neck,  and  spoke  whispering  words,  and  hummed  his  tune 
again.  Well,  they  rode  away,  and  I  saw  no  more  of  master  or 
grnnm,  till  the  evening;  when,  as  I  was  crossing  the  court-yard, 
on  my  way  to  the  laundry,  who  should  I  see  but  Dick  Dimblc 
leaning  against  the  door-post  of  the  stable?,  rubbing  up  his  har- 
nesa,  and  whistling,  and  whish-whish-whishing  between  whiles.  1 
went  up  to  him.  and  fell  into  talk  with  him.  'I  s'pose  V"<ing 
master  was  away  after  the  hounds  to-d:i  1,  Dick,'  says  I, 


128  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

though  I  knew  well  enough  he  was  no  such  thing,  without  his 
scarlet  coat  and  all !  '  Well,'  says  Dick,  '  Mrs.  Martha,  you're  a 
faithful  servant  and  know  how  to  hear,  and  see,  aud  say  nothing 
I'll  tell  you  what  it  is;  it's  my 'pinion,  that  young  master  has 
been  what  you  may  call  thrown  this  morning ;  and  what's  more,  I 
think  it's  a  crying  shame,  that  any  honourable  Miss  Laura  of  them 
all  should  dare  to  fling  out,  and  toss  up  their  heads  at  such  a 
prince  of  a  fellow  as  our  young  'Squire  is ;  or  find  it  in  their  heart 
to  break  his,  let  'em  be  as  handsome  and  as  clever  as  they  please.' 
'  What  do  you  mean,  Dick  ?  '  I  says.  '  Why  this,  Mrs.  Martha,' 
says  he.  '  Didn't  you  see  how  lively  our  Mr.  Harry  looked  this 
morning,  when  you  stood  at  the  hall-door,  and  saw  him  mount  his 
horse  and  ride  away,  with  me  following  behind  him  ?  It  was  just 
the  same,  all  the  way.  He  chatted  with  me  about  how  the  horses 
all  were,  and  how  the  crops  looked,  and  how  the  season  prom- 
ised for  hunting,  and  a  lot  of  things,  just  to  be  saying  something 
pleasant  and  good-humoured,  and  like  himself — though  every  now 
and  then  he  seemed  hardly  able  to  speak  for  singing,  and  to  be 
thinking  of  anything  else  but  what  he  was  talking  about ;  till  we 
came  near  to  Woodside — the  cottage,  you  know,  Mrs.  Martha, 
that  the  Darners  have  taken,  since  they  came  to  stay  hereabouts.' 
'  I  know,' says  I.  'Well,'  he  says,  'when  we  came  nigh  to  the 
palings  that  enclose  the  Woodside  grounds,  I  see  Mr.  Harry  be- 
gin to  fidget,  and  shy,  and  fall  off  his  talk,  and  slacken  rein,  and 
try  all  he  could  to  distance  the  time  of  arriving  at  the  gate;  and 
as  for  singing,  he  didn't  seem  to  have  a  note  in  his  voice,  but  only 
now  and  then  gave  a  hem,  as  if  his  throat  was  full  o'  chopped  hay, 
and  he'd  a'  been  glad  of  a  pull  at  some  cool  ale,  or  even  a  drink 
of  good  well-water,  had  there  been  any  at  hand.  I  took  no  notice, 
o'  course ;  but  just  as  the  servant  came  to  the  gate,  and  said  yes, 
Miss  Darner  was  at  home,  and  there  was  no  going  back,  I  said  to 
master,  as  he  dismounted,  Give  me  the  bridle,  Mr.  Harry,  sir,  I'll 
uold  honourable  Laura  fast ;  she  shan't  bolt.  I'm  not  afeurd  on 
her.  As  you  say,  faint  heart  never  won  fair  lady  !  I  could  see 
bis  face  brighten  a  bit  at  that,  as  he  turned  from  me,  and  went 
into  the  house.  Two  mortal  hours  I  waited  outside  that  gate, 


THE    IRON    C0l>l\  1-'.) 

Mrs.  Martha — luckily,  there  was  shade,  or  the  honourable  Laura 
(the  marc,  I  mean)  might  ha'  kicked  at  standing  so  long  in  the 
heat — two  mortal  hours!  At  last,  out  come  master.  But  such  a 
changed  man !  you'd  hardly  have  known  him,  Mrs.  Martha,  had 
you  set  eyes  on  him  at  that  moment.  He  was  as  white  as  any 
ghost,  and  walked  as  bent  as  an  old  man,  and  as  unsteady  as  a 
drunken  one.  He  said  no  word ;  but  went  straight  up  to  his  horse, 
made  two  attempts  to  put  his  foot  in  the  stirrup,  before  he  could 
hit  it — such  a  horseman  as  he  is ! — flung  himself  into  the  saddle 
and  rode  off.  He  kept  up  a  pace  like  the  wind,  all  the  way  home: 
and  when  we  came  to  the  Hall,  tossed  me  the  rein,  threw  himself 
off  his  horse,  and  went  straight  in-doors,  without  so  much  as  a 
word,  or  a  look,  towards  me  or  the  mare ;  him,  too,  that  always 
has  a  kind  speech,  or  a  nod,  or  a  slap  on  the  shoulder,  either  for 
me  or  the  horses.  Don't  tell  me,  Mrs.  Martha ;  I'd  take  you  any 
bet,  the  honourable  Laura  (I  mean  Miss  Darner)  has  played  him  a 
jade's  trick.  As  sure  as  you're  alive,  Mr.  Harry  has  been  clean 
pitched  over — what  d'ye  call  it — refused.'" 

"  I  think  Dick  was  right,"  resumed  Matty,  after  the  pause  of 
a  moment;  "  for,  for  some  time  after,  Mr.  Harry  was  quite  un- 
like himself.  He  would  fold  his  arms,  and  stand  looking  out  of 
the  window,  by  the  quarter  of  an  hour  together;  he  took  no 
thought  about  his  food;  answered  his  father  and  mother,  as  if  ho 
didn't  know  what  they  were  saying  to  him ;  cared  nothing  for  his 
usual  sports,  his  hunting,  and  fishing,  and  shooting ;  stopped  idling 
in-doors;  never  rode  out  at  all;  was  always  asking  what  o'clock 
it  \v:is,  and  wondering  it  was  still  so  early ;  seemed  glad  when 
bed-time  came ;  got  up  late,  yet  looked  tired  the  first  thing  in 
the  morning  ;  neglected  his  dress,  and  let  his  hair  hang  loose 
al>' mi  his  ears.  Once,  I  remember,  I  happened  to  be  dusting  in 
die  library — one  of  the  house-maids  asked  me  to  do  it  for  her 
while  she  stepped  down  to  tho  lodge  to  see  her  mother  for  half  an 
nour  who  was  sick  of  an  ague — when  I  saw  Mr.  Harry  come  softly 
in,  :ind  clone  the  door  behind  him,  as  if  he  didn't  wish  to  be  seen. 
To  humour  him,  I  staid  where  I  was,  behind  the  screen,  that  he 
mightn't  think  he  was  being  watrhrd  or  observed." 


130  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  To  save  him  from  knowing  it,  you  did  it  ?  "  said  Kate. 

"  Yes,"  said  Matty,  "  I  didn't  want  him  to  be  teased,  bj 
finding  that  some  one  was  there,  when  he  fancied  himself  alone. 
Well,  he  walked  up  to  the  great  map,  that  hangs  on  one  side  of 
the  room,  against  the  wall,  and  stood  looking  at  it  for  some  time, 
with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  and  his  mouth  looking  as  if  he 
were  whistling,  without  sound,  to  himself.  At  last  he  gave  a 
deep  sigh,  and  turned  away.  Then  he  stood,  for  a  bit,  in  the 
bow-window,  where  the  two  big  globes  stand ;  and  these  he  spun 
round,  one  after  the  other,  looking  dizzily  at  them,  as  they 
twirled  and  twirled  beneath  his  right  forefinger,  while  with  his 
left  he  pulled  his  nether  lip,  till  it  left  his  teeth  as  bare  as  the 
globes  themselves.  '  I  can't  make  end  nor  side  of  them,'  I 
heard  him  mutter ;  '  I  shall  continue  a  blockhead  all  the  days  of 
my  life.'  And  then  he  gave  another  sigh,  and  turned  away.  He 
remained  opposite  one  of  the  book-shelves  for  several  minutes, 
and  stared  at  the  backs  of  the  books,  as  if  he  was  making  out 
what  was  wrote  on  'em ;  but  I  don't  think  he  was  reading,  either ; 
nor  yet,  when  he  took  down  one,  and  turned  over  its  leaves,  let- 
ting them  spring  from  his  thumb  so  fast,  that  it  wasn't  likely  he 
could  make  out  the  lines  and  letters,  though  he  was  looking  at 
them  all  the  time.  I  heard  him  say,  between  his  teeth :  '  And 
these  cursed  books,  that  she's  so  fond  of !  How  shall  I  ever  get 
auy  one  of  'em  into  my  head — much  less  all !  I  shall  never  be 
other  than  the  dolt  I  have  been  all  my  life  !  I  couldn't  be  wor- 
thy of  her — try  as  I  might !  No  wonder  she  despises  me  !  No 
wonder  she  has  made  her  choice  elsewhere.'  He  flung  the  book 
away,  and  clasped  both  hands  before  his  face,  and  stood  so,  quite 
silent,  for  a  long  time ;  at  least,  it  seemed  a  very  long  time,  I 
know,  to  me,  for  I  was  afraid  to  stir  or  breathe,  lest  he  might  see 
or  hear  me,  so  still  the  place  was,  and  so  still  he  remained.  You 
might  have  heard  a  pin  drop.  At  last,  there  was  a  knock,  and 
the  handle  of  the  door  was  gently  turned.  Mr.  Harry  started. 
'  Who's  there  ?  '  he  cried,  gruffly  enough.  '  It's  I,  'Squire,'  said 
Dick  Dimble,  putting  his  shock  head  softly  into  the  room.  '  I've 
seen  your  honour  prowling  about  this  place  lately,  more  than  is 


THE    IKON    COUMW.  131 

good  for  you.  No  good  comes  of  haunting  and  burrowing  in 
lilu-'ies  and  studies,  when  it  isn't  nat'ral  to  a  man;  if  he's  born 
and  bred  a  book-worm,  well  and  good — he  can't  help  his  natur', 
no  more  than  a  ferret,  or  a  rat,  or  a  mole,  or  any  other  vermin 
can  ;  but  when  it's  the  natur'  of  him  to  be  abroad,  and  scouring 
>vcr  the  country  like  a  stag,  or  a  dog,  or  a  horse,  or  such  kind  o1 
noble  animal,  that  knows  what  life  is,  why  then  he  oughtn't  to 
skulk  in  holes  and  corners,  but  he  should  come  out,  and  enjoy 
what  God  gave  him  to  enjoy,  and  taught  him  to  enjoy,  and  made 
him  fit  to  enjoy.  You  must  come  out  and  ride,  Mr.  Harry,  sir; 
'sense  my  saying  so,  but  you  must,'  says  Dick.  '  I  can't  ride,' 
says  master,  in  a  broken  voice,  '  I  shall  never  care  to  ride  again.' 
'  Don't  say  so,  Mr.  Harry,  sir,'  says  Dick.  '  Take  heart,  sir,  and 
try  what  a  good  gallop  'cross  country'll  do  for  you.  It'll  make 
a  man  of  you  once  more.  Do  be  persuaded  ;  I've  brought  round 
the  horses.  Mr.  Harry,  sir;  do  come  and  have  a  good  brisk  ride.' 
Tin-  'Sijnire  turned  away,  and  began  spinning  one  of  the  globes 
igain  ;  and  then  he  said — not  looking  at  Dick  while  he  spoke — 
'  What  horse  have  you  brought  for  me,  Dick  ?  '  '  The  bay  marc 
sir,'  says  Dick,  very  firm  and  steady  like.  The  'Squire  glanced 
up  ijuite  sudden,  and  looked  straight  in  Dick's  face.  Then  he 
walkrd  up  to  him,  put  one  hand  on  his  shoulder,  and  with  the 
other  gave  Dick's  a  hearty  grip,  while  he  passed  on  out  of  the 
study,  say  in"  •• — ;  I'll  go — I  will  ride.'  And  ever  since  that 
time."  concluded  Matty,  stepping  forward,  and  patting  the  old 
hunter's  neck,  "  it  has  always  been  called  '  the  bay  mare.' >; 

"  And  what  became  of  its  namesake,  the  honourable  Laura 
Damcr  ':*  "  asked  Kate. 

'•  Soon  after  that,  the  family  went  up  to  town ;  and  we  heard 
at'tcrwanls,  that  the  young  lady  had  married  a  Colonel  Lascelles, 
md  had  gone  out  with  him  to  India,"  answered  Matty.  "  But 
Mr.  Harry  had  taken  to  his  riding  and  hunting,  and  they  made 
him  his  own  man  again,  as  Dick  Dimhlc  said  they  would." 


/32  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

4  AND  so,  master  and  you  have  made  out  the  cousiuship  between 
you  and  the  folks  at  Worthington  Court  ?  "  said  Matty,  as  she 
and  her  young  mistress  rambled  on  again.  There  was  always  a 
good  deal  of  neighbourliness,  and  kith-and-kin  feeling,  between 
our  people  and  theirs  in  the  old  times.  My  Madam  Heathcote 
and  Madam  Worthington  called  one  another  by  their  Christian 
names ;  and  there  was  always  relation  meeting  and  greeting  be- 
tween the  two  families  at  Christmas  time,  and  on  birth-days,  and 
wedding-days,  and  such  like.  What  do  you  think  of  the  present 
folks,  Miss  Kate,  my  darling  ?  What  sort  seems  Mr.  Morton 
Worthington,  now  he's  come  to  be  head  of  the  house  ?  And  what 
like's  his  son,  besides  being  English  to  the  backbone — which  I'm 
glad  to  hear  ?  '•' 

"  Well,  in  some  things  they  are  like  father,  like  son,"  said 
Kate  ;  "  they  come  of  the  same  proud  race — they're  made  of  the 
same  stern  stuff — which,  it  seems,  is  the  Worthington  character- 
istic. For  the  son, — my  iron  cousin,  as  I  call  him, — he  might 
by  a  miraculous  chance  be  softened,  or  melted,  bent  or  moulded, 
wrought  upon  by  some  means  or  other  ;  but  of  the  marble  father, 
there's  no  hope  ;  under  all  conceivable  changes,  he  would  remain 
a  hard,  impenetrable,  unalterable  block  of  primitive  granite. 
Nothing  but  hewing  him  piecemeal,  or  cutting  at  the  very  heart 
of  him,  would  produce  any  effect  upon  marble  Mr.  Morton  Wor- 
thington. As  my  mother  proved,  if  all  be  true,"  she  added,  in  a 
little  exultant  under-tone. 

"  Ay,  that  she  did,  as  I,  and  none  so  well  as  I,  know  for  a 
certainty,''  said  Matty.  "  I  once  happened  to  see  how  unstony 
Mr.  Morton  Worthington  could  look!  Never  but  once — that 
once — did  I  see  him  carry  himself  like  anything  else  but  the 
cold,  marble  piece  o'  goods  he  seemed — more  like  a  statter,  or  a 
bust  on  legs,  than  a  man. 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  133 

"  And  that  once ?  "  said  Kate. 

':  Yes,  that  once,  sure  enough,  he  did  show  he  was  flesh  and 
blood  ;  a  man  with  a  heart  in  his  bosom,  and  with  firo  iu  his 
heart — in  his  eyes — in  his  words." 

"  And  you  happened  to  see  it  ?  "  pursued  Kate,  with  her  eyes 
Qxed  upon  the  nurse. 

"  Yes,  I  chanced  to  be  hiding — that  is,  I  chanced  to  be  where 
I  could  see — could  overhear  him  and  my  Miss  Hetty  together — 
when  they  little  thought  any  one  was  by — and  when  he  told  her 
plain  out  he  loved  her,  and  that  he  begged  her  to  have  pity  on 
him,  and  have  him,  for  be  couldn't  live  without  her.  And  it  was 
when  she  told  him  as  plain,  that  she  didn't  and  couldn't  love  hin? 
in  return,  that  Mr.  Morton  showed  he  wasn't  stone  to  the  heart. 
1  .shall  never  forget  his  look — though  he  never  knew  I  saw  it 
— nor  she  neither,  for  I  never  mentioned  that  I'd  chanced  to — 
to " 

"  You  were  right,"  said  Kate.     "  Best  speak  of  it  no  more.'r 

After  this  evening  ramble  and  conversation  with  her  nurse 
Matty,  whenever  Kate  went  over  to  Worthington  Court  with  her 
uncle,  she  felt  more  and  more  interested  to  watch  the  conduct 
and  speech,  and  to  observe  every  slight  gesture  and  look  of  the 
cold,  hauirhty  master  of  the  house.  The  interest  his  character 
possessed  for  her  was  not  that  of  liking,  or  sympathy ;  but  a  sort 
of  resistless  attraction,  which  led  her  to  speculate  upon  his  inward 
thoughts  and  sentiments,  as  opposed  to  his  outwardly  expressed 
actions  and  words.  She  was  continually  drawn  to  contrast  his 
external  manner  with  what  she  had  learned  of  his  soul's  history; 
and  while  she  noted  the  chill,  unmoved  demeanour,  would  recall 
to  herself  that  one  fiery  point  in  his  life,  of  which  she  knew. 

The  feeling  of  Mr.  Worthington  towards  her,  partook  of  some- 
what t'  nature.  He  could  not  withstand  the  impression 
her  imaire  produced  upon  him.  He  felt  it,  even  while  he  did  not 
permit  himself  to  look  at  her.  He  had  a  perpetual  sense  of  ll.-t- 
tv's  livini:  impersonation  being  there,  m-ar  him,  before  him;  only 
•naecT  he  would  not  allow  hii:  :ly  to  regard  it 
This  Y.  I  ujion  him  ;  a  more  posi 


J34  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

tive  one,  was  the  uneasiness  which  he  felt  at  her  perfect  ease 
The  fearlessness  of  tone,  the  unembarrassed  look,  the  unhesitating 
speech,  all  combined  to  discompose  and  annoy  him.  Her  pres- 
ence had  too  great  an  involuntary  influence  upon  him,  to  be  wel- 
come or  pleasant;  and  yet  there  was  something  in  the  beautiful, 
spirited  girl,  that  could  create  neither  aversion  nor  displeasure. 
There  was  a  kind  of  mutual  interest  between  the  two,  at  once  re- 
pellent and  attractive,  which  would  let  them  neither  like  nor  dis- 
like each  other.  Kate  could  not  look  upon  him  with  indifference, 
when  she  remembered  how  passionately  he  had  loved  her  mother ; 
yet  she  could  not  helpl resenting  his  self-imposed  stoicism  of  cold- 
ness and  reserve  ;  while  Mr.  Worthington  felt  constrained  and 
conscious  when  she  was  present,  and  relieved  when  she  was  gone, 
without  actually  experiencing  disapproval,  or  expressing  objection. 

He  would  sometimes  speak  slightingly  and  depreciatingly  of 
her  to  his  son ;  but  he  never  went  beyond  such  remarks  as  he  had 
once  before  made;  generally  treating  her  when  absent,  as  when 
present,  with  a  cold  avoidance, — as  if  she  were  a  subject  and  a 
person  too  insignificant  to  be  noticed, — of  too  little  consequence 
to  be  disparaged. 

Kate,  on  her  side,  was  not  quite  so  forbearing.  She  did  not 
scruple  to  show  that  she  thought  Mr.  Worthington  did  not  use 
her  well ;  and  that  if  not  actively  unkind  towards  her,  at  least  he 
was  unwarrantably  disdainful  and  disregardful. 

This  was  one  of  tho  most  frequent  topics  of  disagreement  be- 
tween herself  and  Fermor  Worthington.  She,  ever  hovering  on 
the  verge  of  something  petulant  and  insolent  in  her  allusions ; 
he,  never  tolerating  the  slightest  approach  to  disrespect  or  want 
of  deference  towards  his  father.  She,  perpetually  trying  how  much 
he  would  bear  ;  he,  ever  watchful  to  prevent  and  repress  her  say- 
ing anything  which  he  felt  bound  not  to  allow.  The  more  Kate 
Ircton  felt  Fermor  Worthington's  influence  upon  herself,  the 
more  did  she  strive  to  exercise  one  upon  him  ;  but  so  long  as  there 
was  the  least  tincture  of  wrong  in  what  she  sought  to  sway  him 
to,  she  could  not  flatter  herself  she  produced  the  slightest  ef- 
fect 


THE    IRON    COt'SIV.  135 

Upon  Kate'*  blunt  mode  of  speech,  her  governess  would  some- 
times gently  attempt  to  remonstrate  with  her.  "  Indeed,  my 
flear  child,"  she  would  say,  "you  will  never  be  loved,  if  you  per 
sist  in  that  abrupt,  disregardful  manner." 

"  I  don't  want  to  be  loved,"  Kate  would  answer,  with  a  scorn- 
ful laugh.  "  If  people  can't  like  me  as  I  am — natural,  out  spo 
ken,  truth-tolling — they  may  let  it  alone." 

"  You  may  be  quite  as  truthful,  with  less  roughness.  It  makes 
you  appear  unamiable.  To  hear  you  answer  so  bluffly,  start  li^ 
people  from  loving  you  as  you  deserve." 

"  I  care  not  for  such  easily-startled  liking.  I  don't  seek  their 
Inve  ;  I  want  none  of  it." 

All  human  beings  want  love;  it  is  humanity's  first  great 
necessity.     If  you  do  not  wish  for  love,  it  is  because  you  have 
knmvn  its  want.     There  will  come  a  time  when  you  will  de- 
sire it,  when  you  will  need  it.'' 

"  And  till  then,  I'll  manage  to  do  without  it,"  said  Kate. 

"  Well  for  you  to  talk  of  doing  without  it,  who  possess  it  at 
present  in  such  abundance,  my  dear  child,"  said  Mrs.  Lindon, 
with  a  sigh  and  a  smile.  "  All  I  would  warn  you  against  is,  not 
recklessly  to  risk  its  loss  or  abatement.  It  is  too  priceless  a  bless- 
ing to  be  lightly  thrown  away,  or  even  neglected.  Treasure  that 
you  have  ;  and  disdain  not  fresh  store.  Impossible  to  be  too  cov- 
etous in  its  acquisition,  or  to  hoard  it  too  dearly  and  nearly. 
Affection  is  the  only  wealth  of  which  you  cannot  be  too  great  u 
miser." 

It  is  probable  that  had  Mrs.  Lindon's  mild  words,  together 
with  the  example  of  her  gentle,  unselfish  disposition,  continued, 
they  might  imperceptibly  have  wrought,  in  the  course  of  the  next 
few  ycarp,  that  chastening  effect  upon  her  pupil's  character  which 
would  have  softened  it  into  perfection.  But  the  young  widow's 
health  gave  way  ;  and  just  as  the  medical  attendant  had  pronoun 
ced  that  a  southern  climate  could  alone  save  her,  a  small  annuity 
bequeathed  to  her  by  a  distant  relation,  enabled  her  to  repair  to 
her  beloved  Italy — to  starvt>,  as  the  'Squire  said,  to  luxuriate,  aj 
she  thought — upon  fifty  pounds  a  vo.-ir. 


136  THE    IKON    COUSIN. 

For  some  time,  there  was  a  talk  of  supplying  Mrs  Lindon1? 
place  with  another  instructress  ;  but  time  slipped  by,  and  none 
was  engaged.  Kate  insensibly  fell  into  her  old  desultory  habit.* 
was  constantly  on  horseback  with  her  uncle  ;  took  no  though*  of 
lessons,  and  pursued  only  his  and  her  own  pleasant  devices  for 
out-of-door  enjoyment.  Mr.  Morton  Worthington's  precarious 
health  and  increasing  exactions,  caused  his  son  to  be  less  and  less 
master  of  his  own  time  ;  so  that  Heathcote  Hall  and  its  inmates 
saw  little  or  nothing  of  Fermor  Worthington.  Months  succeed- 
ed one  another,  and  years  crept  by,  leaving  little  to  mark  their 
rapid  progress.  As  Kate  approached  womanhood,  she  began  to 
feel  a  certain  monotony,  a  want  of  resource  and  interest  in  her 
existence, — the  inevitable  result  of  insufficient  mental  culture. 
She  had  the  vigour  of  strong  natural  powers,  which  enabled  her  to 
express  herself — even  as  a  child — with  remarkable  capacity;  but 
now  that  she  had  attained  an  age  when  girlish  pursuits  could  no 
longer  suffice  to  satisfy  her  tastes,  or  occupy  her  faculties  ade- 
quately, refinement,  enlightenment,  fresh  ideas,  became  absolute 
necessities,  which  were  each  day  more  and  more  keenly  felt. 
Once,  she  and  the  'Squire  had  been  taking  a  smart  canter  across 
the  Oakleigh  Downs,  in  order  to  counteract  the  depressing  influ- 
ence of  the  morning, — a  chill,  misty,  drizzly  day  in  early  autumn. 
As  they  rode  homewards,  the  hedges  looked  dank  and  soppy ;  the 
park  trees  behung  with  a  grey  veil  of  haze  and  moisture  ;  the  skj 
leaden  and  uniform  ;  the  roads  muddy  ;  the  leaves  dripping ;  all 
seemed  cheerless  and  blank. 

"  Uncle,"  said  Kate,  suddenly,  "  I  wish  you  would  take  me 
to  Italy.  The  blue  skies,  the  glowing  sunshine,  the  glorious 
starlight  and  moonlight,  that  they  talk  of,  as  perpetually  reigning' 
there  in  cloudless  beauty,  make  me  long  to  exchange  this  dreary 
prospect  of  a  long,  long  autumn  and  winter,  for  a  season  there. 
Think  of  the  paradise  of  such  a  climate,  compared  with  this  ! 
Ugh  !  "  and  she  shuddered  ;  "  to  think  of  the  many  dull  hopeless 
weeks  and  months  we  shall  have  to  wade  through,  of  this  kind 
of  weather,  before  spring  comes  to  cheer  us." 

"  You  forget  Christmas,  Kate,  with  its  yule  logs,  its  holly 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  137 

boughs,  its  rousing  fires,  its  good  fare,  its  jolly  cheer,  its  merry 
dances,  its  songs,  its  games,  its  holiday  dresses,  its  bright  look, 
jiinl  frolic  time.  You  forget  we  have  that  to  look  forward 
to,  and  to  look  back  upon,  between  this  and  spring.  You  forgot 
our  good  old  English  Christmas  !  " 

"  No,  I  remember  it  quite  well — I  remember  it  too  well — I 
know  it  by  heart ;  I  have  seen  so  many  English  Christmases, 
that  I  should  like  to  spend  one  Christmas  away  from  England, 
just  to  know  how  one  feels  without  beef  and  pudding  being 
brought  to  table  like  a  doom,  on  a  particular  day.  Oh.  that  in- 
evitable turkey  and  chine !  Those  relentless  mince  pies !  I 
should  excessively  like  to  have  a  fete,  instead  of  a  fate,  in  my 
way  of  spending  Christmas-day,  if  it  were  but  for  change  of 
MIC." 

"  Like  to  have  what,  my  dear  ?  "  said  the  'Squire,  simply. 

"  Only  a  worthless  play  upon  a  word,  uncle  ;  which  was  more- 
over an  unworthy  affectation — for  I  have  no  right  to  use  French 
\y>nls.  knowing  so  few;  and  besides,'  it  should  have  been  proper- 
ly festa,  not  fete ;  for  it  is  an  Italian  holiday  I  am  longing 
for" 

"  And  you  shall  have  one,  Kate,  my  dear,"  said  her  uncle. 
"  It  would  be  hard  if  you  should  long  in  vain  for  any  thing  that 
I  can  L'ivo  you.  So,  hey  for  Italy  !  when  shall  we  go  ?  " 

"  The  sooner  the  better — to-morrow — the  day  after — when 
you  will,  uncle  1 "  she  exclaimed,  gleefully.  "  I'll  brush  up  what 
little  French  and  Italian  dear  patient  Mrs.  Lindon  ever  managed 
t<J  coax  into  my  pate.  I  can  do  that  on  the  road,  so  as  to  lose 
no  time  ;  and  we'll  go  and  see  her  herself,  shall  we  ?  Take  her 
liv  surprise  in  her  Tuscan  hut,  that  she  has  so  often  written  to  us 
asies  about,  and  hoped  one  day  to  show  us.  How  surpris- 
ed she  will  be  !  And  how  pleased  !  For  though  I  fear  I  often 
tried  her  gentle  temper  more  than  I  ought — I  have  felt  this  since 
'.  r — yet  I  believe  she  loved  me." 

"  Who  does  not,  you  rogue?  "  said  the  'Squire.  "  And  by- 
tht-bve,  a-  \ve  are  so  soon  to  be  off  on  our  travels,  \v  may  as  well 
call  to-day  in  our  way  home,  at  Worthington  Court,  and  bid 


1 38  THE    IRON    COUSIN, 

Morton  and  Fermor  good-bye.  They  will  be  surprised,  I  take 
it,  at  such  au  unusual  freak  on  our  parts." 

"  Nothing  surprises  or  disturbs  the  imperturbable  Worthing- 
tons — our  grim,  stately,  marble  and  iron  cousins  !  "  laughed  Kate. 
"  You'll  seej  ancle  :  the  father  will  look  no  more  moved  than  if 
you  were  to  announce  that  you  were  going  home  after  your  visit ; 
and  the  son  will  perhaps  say,  '  You  could  not  have  decided  on  a 
wiser  step,  'Squire  ;  a  winter  abroad  will  do  you  both  good.  Kate 
will  benefit  by  travel ;  and  you  will  have  change  of  scene  and 
amusement.  You  are  quite  right  to  go.'  The  iron  cousin  always 
considers  '  right '  first." 

"  Fermor's  a  good  lad  !  "  said  the  'Squire,  heartily. 

"  Very  good,"  said  Kate,  with  a  laugh. 

"  You  say  that,  as  if  you  didn't  mean  it  quite  in  the  way  I 
do,"  said  the  'Squire. 

"  I  dare  say  not,  uncle,"  she  replied.  "  I  mean,  he's  so  good 
that  he  isn't  satisfied  unless  every  one  matches  his  own  goodness  ( 
and  that's  rather  too  good,  when  one  sometimes  feels  inclined  to 
be  a  little  wicked." 

"  But  I  don't  find  Fermor  too  good,  for  my  part ;  he's  pica- 
Bant  with  his  goodness — which  all  good  people  are  not,"  said  the 
'Squire.  "  Don't  you  agree  with  me,  my  dear  ?  " 

"  Quite,  uncle', — that  all  good  people  are  not  pleasant,"  said 
Kate. 

"  And  that  Fermor  is  pleasant,  although  he's  so  good,"  con- 
tinued her  uncle. 

"  Well — yes ;  at  any  rate,  it's  pleasant  to  hear  you  say  so," 
she  returned,  laughing. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

'  WHAT  think  you  my  Kate  and  I  have  made  up  our  minds  to 
do,  Morton  ?  "  said  the  'Squire,  after  he  had  shaken  hands  with 
his  friend,  and  inquired  concerning  his  health ;  "  we  arc  talking 
«f  a  trip  to  the  continent — of  wintering  in  Italy." 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  139 

•''  Are  you  ''  "  said  Mr.  Morton  Worthington,  in  the  calmest 
fcml  uvfnest  of  tones. 

Ka*e  glanced  at  her  uncle,  with  a  merry  twinkle  in  her  eyes, 
to  remind  him  of  her  prediction. 

"  Is  it  possible,  'Squire  !  "  exclaimed  Fermor.  "  Do  you 
i  sally  think  you  shall  like  to  leave  England  ?  " 

An  almost-  imperceptible  twinge  passed  across  the  'Squire's 
face ;  but  he  answered  :  "  Yes  ;  Kate  has  a  notion  she  should 
like  a  winter  abroad  ;  so  I  am  anxious  to  go.  We  shall  probably 
start  in  a  day  or  two.7' 

"  So  soon  !  "  said  Fermor. 

"  If  I  am  ever  to  make  the  grand  tour,  the  sooner  the  better," 
laughed  the  'Squire.  "  Many  would  think  I've  already  put  it 
off  later  than  I  ought  to  ha.vo  done.  But  better  late  than  never, 
as  the  old  saying  goes." 

"  And  are  you  so  eager  for  this  foreign  visit, — so  eager  to 
leave  home,  Kate  ?  "  said  Fermor. 

"  Is  there  not,  somewhere,  a  passage  about  home-keeping 
youths  having  homely  wits?"  bhe  returned,  gaily ;  "the  same 
thing  holds  good.  I  conclude,  for  young  damsels.  It  is  high  time 
somewhat  should  be  done  to  prevent  me  from  rusting,  or  must 
ing,  by  shutting  up  too  long ;  so  uncle  is  going  to  take  me  an 
airing  that  shall  give  me  a  little  brightening  and  polishing." 

"  Too  much  exposure  abroad  sometimes  dims  a  woman's  rea. 
lustre,  though  it  may  give  her  a  superficial  brilliancy,"  said  Fer 
mor,  in  a  lighter  tone,  like  her  own. 

"  Perhaps  you  would  have  her  merely  scrubbed  neat  and 
clean,  and  set  on  the  kitchen  shelf, — a  domestic  utensil  ?  "  said 
Kate.  "  You  probably  hold,  that  in  her  own  housewife  sphere 
alone,  a  woman  should  shine." 

"  I  certainly  think  that  it  is  there  she  shines  to  best  advan 
tagc,"  said  Fermor. 

"  And  if  a  little  foreign  polish  is  first  given,  it  enables  her  to 
settle  down  in  her  own  home  with  all  the  more  effect/'  said 
Kate. 

"  Well, — '  polish,'  merely ;  so  that  there  be  nothing  artificial 


140  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

nothing  adventitious;  so  that  the  sterling  native  gold  be  allowed 
to  appear  in  its  intrinsic  effulgence,  and  not  have  suffered  lac- 
quering," he  answered.  "  Perhaps  you  are  right ;  and  that  for 
women,  as  well  as  for  men,  youthful  travel  is  an  advantage.  I 
spoke  hastily.  Doubtless,  this  proposed  journey  will  profit  you 
much.  That  will  be  a  consolation  for  losing  you  and  the  'Squire 
from  England." 

"  You  will  not  miss  us  much  as  neighbours,  for  you  rarely 
come  over  to  the  Hall  now,"  said  the  'Squire,  as  he  rose  to 
take  leave.  "  We  shall  hope  to  see  you  oftener  when  we 
return." 

Fermor  said  nothing,  but  he  grasped  the  'Squire  affectionately 
by  the  hand,  and  looked  his  gratitude. 

"  Fermor,  suppose  you  put  on  your  hat  and  accompany  our 
friends  on  their  way  home,"  said  Mr.  Worthington.  "  As  they 
are  leaving  England  so  soon,  you  may  not  have  another  oppor- 
tunity of  seeing  them.  Go  ;  I  wish  it." 

Fermor  started  with  delight  at  this  unexpected  command ; 
and  hastened  out  to  have  his  horse  saddled,  while  the  'Squire 
and  Kate  were  taking  leave  of  his  father. 

He  was  more  than  usually  grave  and  quiet,  for  some  time, 
as  they  rode  on,  side  by  side ;  but  at  length  rousing  himself,  lie 
said : — "  I  am  very  selfish,  to  think  only  of  my  own  regret,  in 
having  you  leave  us ;  I  ought  to  remember  that  you  will 
enjoy  a  great  pleasure.  How  do  you  propose  going  ?  Which 
way?" 

He  discussed  the  route  with  the  'Squire  and  Kate  ;  entered 
with  animation  into  all  the  details  of  their  journey  ;  aiding  them 
with  all  the  hints  and  suggestions  which  might  be  of  use  to  such 
inexperienced  travellers,  and  which  his  own  early  residence  on 
the  continent  enabled  him  to  furnish. 

"  What  a  delightful  thing  it  would  be  to  go  with  you  !  "  he 
exclaimed,  in  the  midst  of  some  minute  description  he  was 
giving  the  'Squire,  of  how  he  was  to  proceed  in  crossing  the 
Alps. 

"  And  what  a  still  more  delightful  thing  it  would  be  to  hav« 


THE   IRON    COUS.N.  141 

you  with  us  !  "  exclaimed  the  'Squire.  "  Do,  my  dear  fellow  ' 
Not  to  speak  selfishly,  you  would  be  the  making  of  us,  in  our 
difficulties  ;  and  your  company  would  double  our  pleasure. 
Wouldn't  it,  Kate  ?  " 

Fermor  glanced  quickly  at  Kate.  She  didn't  speak ;  but 
her  face  wore  a  glowing,  pleased  expression,  of  undoubted 
assent. 

"  You  are  very  .good,  'Squire,"  said  Ferraor,  in  his  deep- 
breathed,  earnest  voice  ;  "  there  is  nothing  I  should  so  intensely 
like  ;  but  my  father — I  must  not — I  cannot  leave  him." 

"  He's  not  a  child,  that  he  can't  be  left !  He  won't  tumble 
out  of  window,  or  fall  into  the  fire,  or  break  his  neck  down  stairs, 
or  get  iuto  mischief  if  he  isn't  watched,  will  he  ? "  said  Kate, 
hastily. 

"  He  likes  to  have  me  with  him  ;  and  I  like  to  stay  with  him," 
said  Fermor,  gravely. 

"  Even  when  we  ask  you  to  go  with  us  ?  Even  when  we  tell 
you,  you  will  be  our  greatest  comfort  and  assistance  ?  Even 
when  we  tell  you  your  company  will  double  our  pleasure  ?  "  said 
Kate,  turning  her  beautiful  face  full  upon  him,  in  the  eagerness 
of  her  urging. 

Fermor  withdrew  his  look  resolutely  from  the  one  which  he 
felt  deprived  him  of  power  to  speak  a  denial ;  and  then  he  said, 
in  a  low,  but  firm  tone:  "  Even  then." 

••  The  Iron  Cousin  has  no  need  to  '  screw  his  courage  to  the 
sticking-i'lacc  ! '  "  she  said  ;  "  it  is  ever  fast  and  sturdy  to  the 
point  of  adherence." 

••  Would  you  have  it  otherwise,  when  duty  is  the  point  of  ad- 
herence ?"  he  returned.  "  I  trust,  courage  and  I  may  never  bo 
unable  to  cry,  '  We'll  not  fail,'  when  duty  makes  the  appeal 
;ii::iiiist  inclination." 

'  Then  your  inclination  is  with  us  ?  "  she  said. 

'•  It  is,"  he  replied ;  "  I  hardly  dare  to  think  how  entirely  it 
is  with  you;  how  much  I  should  prefer  going  with  you  and  your 
uncle,  to  staying  at  home.  But  I  know  my  presence  is  required, 
aud  therefore  I  remain/' 


142  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

"  If  you  choose  to  sacrifice  your  own  pleasure,  do  you  think 
it  right  to  diminish  ours  ?  "  said  Kate.  "  Remember,  my  uncle 
»nd  I  have  told  you  that  we  shall  enjoy  our  journey  but  half  as 
well  without  you." 

"  You  urge  me  too  far,  Kate,"  said  Fermor.  "  You  urge  me 
to  tell  you  that  all  other  considerations  should  give  way,  with 
me,  to  that  of  my  father.  And  even  now,  I  am  transgressing  his 
commands,"  he  added,  with  a  sad  smile,  as  he  looked  round. 
''  He  told  me  to  accompany  you  on  your  way  home ;  and  here 
have  I  come  almost  to  the  very  door  of  Heathcote  Hall  with 
you.  To  save  the  letter  of  his  injunction,  I  must  bid  you  fare- 
well here,  under  the  old  avenue  trees.  They  will  wear  their 
spring  leaves  ere  we  meet  again  ;  but  you  will  have  seen  many  a 
brave  tree,  and  many  a  broad  acre  of  land,  before  then  ;  though 
none  fairer  and  dearer  than  your  own  glorious  park  trees,  'Squire  ! 
I  shall  come  and  see  them,  now  and  then,  while  you  are  away,  for 
your  sake  and  Kate's.  Good  bye,  'Squire — a  pleasant  journey  ! 
Farewell,  Kate  !  " 

"  Nonsense,  my  dear  fellow  !  You  are  not  going  to  take 
leave  here  ;  you  must  come  in  with  us — you  must  dine  with  us — 
you  must  stay  till  evening.  We  can't  spare  you  yet !  We  can't 
part  with  you  yet !  Remember,  we  are  going  away  for  a  long 
time  ;  and  shan't  see  each  other  for  months  to  come.  Nonsense, 
you  mustn't  think  of  returning  yet !  " 

"  I  fear  I  must,  sir,"  said  Fermor. 

"  Why  tempt  him  from  his  beloved  stern  path  of  duty,  uncle  ? 
He  has  so  scrupulous  a  reverence  for  it  that  he  thinks  he  ought 
tv  observe  even  its  least  reasonable  exactions.  He  thinks  'him 
self  bound  to  obey  his  father  to  the  minutest  shade  of  his  imperi- 
ous will.  Not  so  much  as  a  command  to  return  by  a  stated 
quarter  of  an  hour,  will  he  infringe,  to  please  friends  who  are 
foolish  enough  to  let  him  see  they  wish  to  have  him  with  them  as 
long  as  they  can." 

"  Indeed,  I  think  you  carry  your  implicit  obedience  to  youi 
father's  commands  too  far,  my  dear  fellow,"  said  the  'Squire,  "  if 
you  will  allow  me  to  say  so." 


THE    1UON    COUSIN.  143 

"  You  would  not  say  so,  'Squire,  if  you  knew  all.  My 
father's  health  Is  more  fragile  than  you  think  it;  his  very  life 
eeeins  to  tremble  in  the  balance.  His  physician  has  hinted  as 
much  to  me  ;  and  that  thwarting  him  may  have  the  worst  effects. 
I  know  him ;  I  know  he  likes  to  be  obeyed  at  a  half  word — at  an 
implied  one.  I  will  never  have  to  reproach  myself  that  by  omis- 
sion, or  even  inadvertence  of  mine,  his  fate  has  been  hastened. 
This  makes  me  daily,  hourly,  nay,  minutely,  watchful  of  him. 
Now  you  will  understand  my  scruples,  and  bid  me  farewell  with 
entire  forgiveness,  and  even  approval." 

"  Thou'rt  a  good  fellow,  Fermor !  a  true  good  fellow  1 "  ex- 
claimed the  'Squire  warmly,  as  he  wrung  his  young  friend's  hand, 
and  returned  his  farewell. 

"  Farewell,  Kate  ! "  said  Fermor,  leaning  forward  to  shako 
hands  with  her,  her  uncle  being  between  them. 

But  Kate  rode  round,  till  her  horse  was  close  beside  his  ;  and 
then  she  took  his  riding-whip  from  his  hand,  and  said  :  "  Let 
me  have  this ;  it  will  serve  to  remind  me  of  the  Iron  Cousin's 
rod  of  rule.  It  shall  go  with  me  abroad,  since  he  will  not  go 
himself." 

"  Give  me  yours  in  exchange,"  he  said ;  "  though  I  need 
nothing  to  make  me  remember  the  smart  lash  of  Kate's  words; 
they  cut  deep." 

"  If  they  have  ever  cut  too  keenly,  or  too  sharply,  forgive 
them,"  she  said.  "  But  iron  need  not  flinch  from  the  touch  of  a 
lady's  riding-whip." 

"  A  '  touch,'  no  !  A  touch  shall  ever  be  welcome  !  "  said 
Ft  riaor,  as  he  seized  her  offered  hand.  "  But  sometimes,  I  think, 
it  has  amounted  to  a  lacing,  or  a  dressing,  or  some  such  extreme 
administration." 

"  And  so,  in  revenge,  you  grip  my  poor  fingers  till  they  ache, 
that  I  may  remember  the  Iron  Cousin's  clutch  !  I'll  beware  how 
I  venture  my  hand  within  it  again." 

"When  you  return  to  Heathcotc,  I  trust!'  said  Fermor. 
'  God  bless  you,  Kate  ;  farewell  !  Farewell,  dear  friends  both  !" 

And  Fenaor  Worthington   clapped  spurs  to  his  horse,  and 


144  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

galloped  down  the  avenue,  away  from  the  old  Hall,  as  if  he  \vould 
not  allow  himself  to  pause,  .or  to  look  back. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

MRS.  LINDON'S  "  Tuscan  Hut "  was  a  charming  cottage  and 
grounds;  simple  and  unpretending,  even  to  humbleness,  but 
most  picturesque — a  true  Italian  '  campagna.'  It  was  situated  at 
some  distance  from  Florence,  in  the  Val  d'Arno ;  not  precisely 
on  the  banks  of  the  river,  but  very  little  removed  from  its  vicin 
ity.  The  road  which  led  from  her  dwelling  straight  to  the 
beautiful  city,  lay  along  the  shores  of  the  Arno;  the  stream 
flanked  the  bridle-way  and  foot-path  closely  on  one  side,  and  on 
the  other,  the  fruitful  vineyards,  olive-grounds,  corn  and  maize 
fields,  garden  patches,  awl  orchard  enclosures,  stretched  away  in 
verdant,  variegated  luxuriance  up  across  the  valley.  This  road 
was  little  frequented  by  quiet  Mrs.  Lindon.  She  cared  little 
for  society ;  and  the  duties  of  her  small  household  absorbed  the 
major  part  of  her  time.  The  produce  of  the  ground  (under  the 
management  of  a  worthy  peasant  and  his  wife,  who,  according  to 
the  fashion  of  the  country,  undertook  its  culture  for  a  half  share 
of  the  crops)  belonged  to  the  proprietor,  of  whom  she  rented 
the  place,  with  privilege  to  purchase  what  vegetables  and  fruit 
she  required  from  thence.  The  maintaining  her  house  in  the 
extreme  order  and  cleanliness  which  her  English  tastes  and 
habits  taught  her  to  hold  indispensable  for  health  and  comfort, 
occupied  a  large  portion  of  her  personal  attention  ;  at  first,  keep- 
ing no  servant.  Finding,  however,  that  her  feeble  health  would 
not  permit  her  to  perform  the  absolute  drudgery,  she  hired  a 
stout  girl  to  scrub,  and  scour,  and  cook,  while  she  defrayed  the 
outlay  thus  entailed,  by  seeking  pupils.  But  her  neighbourhood 
afforded  few  who  could  either  pay  for,  or  desired  instruction. 
Those  by  whom  she  was  surrounded  were  chiefly  peasants,  or 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  143 

people  scarcely  richer  than  herself.  The  ministering  to  the 
wants  of  those  among  them  who  were  even  yet  poorer,  caused 
her  to  be  solicitous  to  add  to  the  yearly  sum  she  possessed ; 
which,  had  she  had  no  other  claims  than  her  own,  might  have 
been  found  sufficing.  But  Mrs.  Linden's  acquaintance  with 
sorrow,  had  taught  her  to  look  for  comfort  in  acts  of  kindness 
and  benevolence  towards  those  still  more  helpless  and  hapless 
than  herself;  and  thus,  many  were  the  small  timely  sums,  the 
thoughtfully-advanced  succours,  and  seasonable  reliefs,  which  she 
secretly  dispensed  among  her  ill-provided  rural  neighbours. 
These  demands  upon  her  scanty  purse  made  her  anxious  to  pre- 
serve itg  supply ;  and  in  order  to  this,  finding  her  hopes  of  ob- 
taining teaching  fail  her,  she  pursued  a  course  suggested  to  her 
by  one  of  her  few  Florentine  friends ;  who,  on  the  occasion  of  a 
visit  to  her  pretty  campagna,  remarking  on  its  beauty  and  neat- 
ness, added  that  it  was  large  enough  to  admit  more  occupants, 
and  that  she  was  sure,  if  Mrs.  Lindon  chose  to  accommodate  lodg- 
ers, those  who  once  saw  the  tasteful  spot,  would  be  only  too  glad 
to  take  her  spare  rooms.  The  hint  was  acted  upon  ;  the  requi- 
site domestic  arrangements  were  made  ;  and  the  Florentine  lady 
was  requested  to  use  her  influence  among  the  Italian  residents, 
or  Knjrlish  arrivals,  in  procuring  those  who  might  be  desirous 
of  engaging  quiet  apartments,  where  they  might  enjoy  country 
air.  and  yet  be  within  reach  of  the  Tuscan  capital,  and  its  attrac- 
tions of  art,  literature,  and  social  intercourse. 

The  plan  succeeded  admirably.  Mrs.  Lindon  had  a  suc- 
cession of  temporary  inmates,  who  showed  their  sense  of  her 
superior  manners  as  well  as  accommodations,  by  treating  her  with 
tin-  (  onsideration  due  to  one  who  proved  herself  a  lady,  no  less  than 
an  hostess ;  characters  not  always  found  in  combination,  any 
more  than  those  who  meet  with  them  thus  combined,  are  found 
to  behave  so  courteously  in  return.  But  when  the  letter  arrived 
from  England,  which  brought  Mrs.  Lindon  the  joyful  news  that 
she  might  expect  a  visit  of  some  length  from  'Squire  Ilcathcote 
and  his  niece,  she  thought  herself  fortunate  that  her  house  waa 
then  at  liberty  to  receive  them  ;  since  her  last  lodgers  had  just 
7 


140  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

left  her ;  and  to  a  young  Englishman  who  made  application  im 
mediately  after,  she  excused  herself  from  letting  her  rooms, 
frankly  stating  that  she  had  visitors  coming,  who  she  wished 
should  find  themselves  perfectly  at  home  and  undisturbed. 

It  was  a  proud  and  happy  day  to  the  gentle  widow,  when  she 
welcomed  beneath  her  own  roof  her  good  friend  the  'Squire,  and 
her  favourite  pupil,  Kate.  The  one,  with  his  kindly  simplicity 
had  won  her  grateful  esteem  and  regard ;  the  other,  notwith- 
standing that  provoking  vivacity  and  wilfulness  which  had  often- 
times vexed  her,  in  her  capacity  of  governess,  had  yet  contrived 
to  secure  a  warm  corner  in  her  heart,  as  one  whom  she  loved 
dearly,  in  spite  of  certain  faults  which  she  rather  wished  cured, 
than  felt  to  be  disagreeable. 

The  gratification  to  her  guests  was  unmixed.  The  'Squire 
found  himself  housed  quietly,  and  domesticated  with  one  whom 
he  knew ;  with  one  whose  face  was  familiar  ;  with  one  to  whose 
voice  he  was  accustomed  ;  no  slight  comforts  to  a  man  who  dis- 
liked associating  with  strangers,  feeling  uneasy  and  out  of  his 
sphere  when  among  them,  constrained  and  modestly  conscious  of 
his  own  deficiencies,  speaking  no  language  but  his  own,  and  to 
whom  travelling  was  no  pleasure,  inasmuch  as  it  subjected  him 
to  these  and  other  inconveniencies,  in  addition  to  absence  from 
his  own  country  home.  For  Kate's  sake  he  had  endured  all 
silently,  cheerfully ;  contented  to  see  her  pleased  :  but  he  was 
himself  pleased,  when  once  more  settled  down  in  a  cottage  that 
possessed  all  the  attractions  of  English  neatness  and  regularity 
with  Italian  charm  of  situation  and  prospect. 

As  to  Kate,  she  was  wild  with  delight.  She  saw  her  uncle 
enjoying  their  position ;  she  was  with  one  whom  they  both  of  them 
esteemed  and  liked ;  she  was  able  to  revel  in  the  treasures  of  art, 
which  the  city  possessed;  she  could  feast  her  eyes  with  the  glories 
of  nature  which  the  surrounding  country  presented.  Heart,  mind 
and  sense  might  saturate  themselves  with  rare  images  of  beauty, 
such  as  once  stored,  form  unfading  possessions  of  blissful  memory 
ever  after. 

Her  days  at  this  period  were  a  continuous  succession  of  happy 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  147 

and  intellectual  feastings.  One  day  was  spent  much  like  another; 
but  BO  varied  were  the  pleasures  that  occurred  in  the  course  of 
each,  that  not  only  was  there  no  sense  of  monotony,  bat  a  feeling 
as  if  more  glowing  amount  of  diversified  enjoyment  it  was  impos- 

to  press  into  one  period  of  time. 

Thus,  pretty  much  were  their  hours  passed.  They  were  up 
with  the  dawn,  that  they  might  enjoy  the  cool  of  the  Italian  morn- 
in«.r,  and  because  their  ordinary  habits  made  early  rising  usual  and 
pleasaut  to  them.  Until  breakfast,  they  amused  themselves,  the 
uncle  strolling  out  iuto  the  grounds  to  watch  the  peasant  and  his 
wife  at  their  horticultural  labours,  while  Kate  helped  Mrs.  Lin- 
don  in  her  dairy  and  household  matters,  declaring  she  was  gath- 
ering innumerable  useful  hints,  which  were  to  be  put  into  most 
sage  practice  upon  her  return  to  Heathcote  Hall,  although  she 
seemed  to  be  only  idly  entertaining  herself  with  observing  Italian 
housekeeping.  The  'Squire  found  no  less  entertainment  from  his 
pursuits.  lie  used  to  go  aud  look  on,  as  the  bronze-complexion- 
ed  Piejtro  and  his  wife  Marietta  plied  their  vigorous  work  ;  the 
woman  scarcely  less  actively  and  laboriously  employed  than  the 
man,  which  called  forth  not  a  few  muttered  words  of  reprobation 
from  the  sturdy  English  gentleman.  As  the  sinewy,  bare,  ma- 
hogany arms  and  chest  of  the  Italian  rustic  glistened  in  the  sun, 
while  he  wielded  the  strong,  curved,  two-pronged  hoe,  in  many  a 
muscular  stroke,  the  'Squire's  sense  would  whisper  that  that  was 
not  a  bad  implement  for  the  purpose ;  yet  his  national  prejudice 
made,  iiim  murmur  a  word  or  two  against  the  foreign-fangled  mode 
of  pecking  the  ground  and  digging  trenches.  His  good-nature 
and  benevolence  of  disposition,  prompted  him  to  try  and  hammer 
out  n  few  words  of  greeting  in  return  to  the  nodded  salutation  and 
smile,  displaying  an  even  row  of  strong  ivory  teeth,  with  which 
Marietta  would  glance  up  from  her  task  of  piling  a  heap  of  fresh- 
_-etables  iuto  a  basket;  which,  when  fall,  she  raised  upon 
her  lic.i'l  and  trudged  off  with,  at  a  firm,  steady  pace,  to  sell  at  a 
market,  after  furnishing  what  supply  was  needed  at  the  house. 
The  want  lit'  Italian  was  at  these  times  seriously  felt  by  the 
worthy  'Squire,  who  wished  to  make  som.'  suitable  reply  to  tbo 


148  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

courteous  words  which  he  could  make  out  were  proffered  him  bj 
these  simple  good  people.  But  when  he  essayed  to  stumble  out  a 
sentence,  he  used  to  be  sorely  puzzled  by  the  volubility  with  which 
they  would  pour  out  their  very  Tuscan  politeness,  in  their  very 
Tuscan  dialect  :* — "  Signer,  habbia  la  /iompiacenza  di  far  mi  horn- 
prendere  /taul'he  vuol  dir." 

Whereupon  the  'Squire  would  smile,  and  hopelessly  shake  hia 
head,  and  bashfully  turn  away  into  another  path,  and  go  and  see 
how  the  horses  were  being  fed,  and  watered,  and  groomed,  by  the 
peasant  lad  who  had  been  hired  as  stable-boy,  when  a  stud  was 
added  to  the  domestic  economy  of  Valetta  (the  "  Tuscan  hut.")  The 
'Squire  had  easily  procured  two  fine  riding-horses  for  himself  and 
niece  in  Florence,  since  they  abound  there. 

After  breakfast  Kate  and  her  uncle  rode  regularly  into  town, 
where  they  spent  the  chief  part  of  the  day  in  haunting  those  two 
grand  galleries  of  the  Uffizj  and  the  Palazzo  Pitti;  the  'Squire 
well  pleased  to  indulge  his  darling  in  her  delight,  though  he  was 
not  unfrequently  caught  napping  off  into  a  gentle  doze  opposite  to 
some  of  the  most  famous  chefs-d'oauvres  of  Raphael  or  Titian. 
This,  however,  he  invariably  ascribed  to  another  cause  than  indif- 
ference or  tedium,  assuring  Kate  that  it  was  "the  heat,"  merely 
"  the  heat." 

They  used  to  dine  in  Florence,  that  they  might  enjoy  the  ride 
in  the  cool  of  the  evening,  at  the  "  Cascine;  "  and  then,  by  moon- 
light, or  starlight,  later  on,  they  would  turn  their  horses'  heads  in 
the  direction  of  their  "  campagna "  homestead,  after  a  day  of 
pleasantly  mingled  exercise  and  repose. 

The  'Squire  liked  extremely  their  evening  resort  to  the  "  Gas 
cine ;  "  the  music  of  the  military  band,  the  meeting  so  many  Eiig 
lish  faces  (though  he  rarely  encountered  one  that  was  known  to 
him),  the  assemblage  of  carriages,  and  people  on  horseback,  the 
gay  crowd  on  foot,  the  cheerfulness  and  brightness  of  the  scene  al- 
together, pleased  him  much ;  but  there  was  one  drawback  to  it, 


*  The  reader  need  scarcely  te  reminded  that  the  Florentines  turn  their 
•*•  nnd  q'«  into  h'a,  with  ruthless  and  almost  guttural  aspiration. 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  149 

which  grated  upon  his  natural  and  national  shyness,  more  than  he 
cared  to  own.  The  very  shyness  itself  prevented  him  from  ac- 
knowledging or  taking  means  to  avoid  the  nuisance,  for  such  he 
felt  it  to  be. 

To  a  man  so  constitutionally  as  well  as  Britishly  bashful  in 
his  retiring  reserve,  as  the  'Squire  when  in  public,  it  was  no  small 
source  of  discomfort  that  those  Florentine  flower-girls,  with  their 
bold,  staring  faces,  their  officious  assiduities,  their  not-to-be  denied 
proffers,  and  irrefusable  homago,  would  thrust  their  obnoxious 
nosegays  into  his  unwilling  hands.  It  was  hi  vain  he  kept  fast 
hold  of  his  horse's  bridle ;  it  was  in  vain  he  let  nothing  but  the  back 
of  a  closed  fist  meet  their  advance ;  it  was  in  vain  he  turned  his  head 
away,  and  let  hi«  visible  repugnance  appear  undisguisedly  on  his 
face.  Somehow,  these  abominable,  unrepulsable  women,  always 
compassed  their  end ;  and  he  found  himself  helplessly  and  inevi- 
tably possessed  of  a  bunch  of  flowers.  There  was  something  lu- 
dicrous in  feeling  uncomfortable  from  so  slight  a  cause,  but  thie 
consciousness  of  absurdity  did  not  lessen — on  the  contrary,  it 
rather  increased — the  sense  of  annoyance.  He  could  not  shake 
it  off;  and  each  day,  so  far  from  wearing  away  by  repetition,  it 
grew  more  and  more  insupportable.  He  could  not  help  resenting 
this  pretence  of  disinterested  attention,  which  he  knew  covered 
merest  commercial  alacrity;  he  was  provoked  at  being  compelled 
to  receive  as  a  gift,  what  he  understood  was  expected  to  be  ulti- 
mately paid  for ;  he  was  irritated  that  a  mercenary  view  was  to  be 
couched  beneath  a  guise  of  friendliness  and  kindliness,  for  which, 
forsooth,  you  were  bound  to  seem  grateful,  when  you  saw  through 
its  hollow  nonsense,  and  felt  it  to  be  a  vexatious,  impertinent, 
intrusive  persecution.  He  was  upon  one  occasion  struggling  with 
some  Midi  ideas,  and  trying  to  reason  himself  into  laughing  them  off, 
instead  of  yielding  to  them,  while  one  of  these  ungainsayablo 
F!  -ras,  with  her  broad,  flapping  straw  hat,  and  her  brazen  visage, 
rtinaciously  besetting  him,  standing  by  his  horse's  aide, 
ug  close  to  his  knee,  and  forcing  her  offering  against 
his  knuckles,  wlien  1.  Mi-nlv  relieved  i>y  her  all  at  OHOO 

iaeli.  as  she-  turned  Iier  sawy,  wide-mouthed  glance  up  at 
person  who  spoke. 


[50  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

It  was  a  young  English  gentleman  on  horseback  near,  calling 
to  her  in  her  own  tongue,  with  an  authoritative,  but  not  unpluy- 
ful  way,  to  cease  from  her  unwelcome  attentions  to  his  country- 
man. She  answered  with  some  broad  allusion  to  his  own  face, 
as  affording  a  more  attractive  shrine  at  which  to  tender  her  floral 
oblation,  if  he  would  accept  it. 

His  reply  was  a  frank  laugh,  and  a  word  or  two  of  lively  re- 
tort; after  which,  he  turned  to  the  'Squire,  and  raising  his  hat, 
made  a  smiling  apology  for  his  interference,  on  the  ground  that 
ne  perceived  how  benevolence  prevented  his  rescuing  himself 
from  a  civility  that  amounted  to  a  torment. 

"  I  am  glad  you  think  so  ;  I'm  heartily  glad  you  think  so, 
and  find  it  so ;  and  I'm  particularly  obliged  to  you.  my  dear 
young  sir,  for  stepping  forward  to  my  assistance.  You  managed 
it  in  a  trice^  ah,  there's  the  benefit  of  being  able  to  speak  tho 
language  !  It  must  be  owned,  learning  has  its  conveniences  as 
well  as  its  inconveniences." 

"  Can  there  be  any  inconvenience  in  learning,  sir  ?"  smiled 
the  young  Englishman,  surprised. 

"  Dear  me  !  yes,  to  be  sure — great  inconvenience  ;  the  great- 
est trouble  and  inconvenience.  Learning  is  one  of  the  most 
troublesome  things  I  know  of;  that  is,  to  come  by.  Landing  a 
wary  old  trout,  after  he's  led  you  a  wearisome  dance  up  stream 
and  down  stream  for  an  hour,  is  nothing  to  it !  Learning  and 
knowledge  save  trouble  when  once  you've  got  them,  it's  true  ;  but 
they're  mighty  troublesome  to  get.  Once  secured,  they're  worth 
anything;  but  to  secure  'em,  they're  the  deuce's  own  toil  and 
worry.  I  never  could  face  it  myself,  for  I  own  I  like  peace  and 
comfort,  and  prefer  hard  riding  to  hard  reading.  It's  done  well 
enough  for  my  time ;  but,  mind,  I  don't  tell  you  youngsters  it 
ought  to  do  for  ^ou.  You  are  quite  right  to  study,  and  become 
fine  scholars,  and  win  college  honours,  and  acquire  a  host  of  tilings 
that  I  can  admire  in  others,  though  I've  not  head  enough  for  them 
myself.  Excuse  my  freedom,  my  dear  young  sir ;  but  there's 
something  in  the  sound  of  your  English  tongue,  and — and — in 
the  tone  of  your  voice,  I  think,  that  opened  my  heart  Let  me 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  151 

thank  you  very  cordially  for  your  kindly  coming  to  the  aid  of  my 
foolish  embarrassment." 

The  young  gentleman  made  suitable  answer ;  and,  as  he  turn- 
ed away  and  took  leave,  to  evade  the  acknowledgments  which  the 
hearty  'Squire  continued  to  pour  forth,  the  light  of  the  setting 
sun  fell  full  upon  his  countenance,  which  had  before  been  only 
partially  seen  by  the  latter.  There  was  something  in  what  he 
then  beheld  which  struck  the  'Squire  into  a  thoughtful  silence. 
This  lasted  all  the  while  the  music  proceeded  ;  and  at  its  close, 
when  Kate  awoke  out  of  the  trance  of  attention  in  which  it  had 
held  her,  to  ask  him  whether  they  should  take  one  turn  along  the 
wooded  enclosure  which  extends  some  distance  farther  round, 
forming  the  extremity  of  the  "  Cascine,:'  her  uncle  did  not  hear 
her  at  first.  When  he  did,  he  led  to  the  road  she  proposed,  now, 
by  the  drawing  on  of  evening,  freed  from  most  of  its  gay  frequent- 
ers. He  paced  slowly  on,  still  in  a  reverie :  while  Kate,  seeing 
him  inclined  to  be  silent,  gave  herself  quietly  up  to  the  pleasure 
of  the  shadowy,  secluded  spot,  with  its  over-arching  trees ;  its 
glimpses  of  the  river  between,  the  glassy  surface  of  which  reflect- 
ed the  fast-paling  light  from  the  west,  its  stillness,  its  partial  view 
of  the  blue  canopy  above,  gradually  deepening  into  softer  and  so- 
berer tints,  as  the  glare  of  day  subsided  into  night.  It  was  late 
when  they  arrived  at  Valletta,  and  the  'Squire  had  long  before 
recovered  from  the  unwonted  fit  of  abstraction  into  which  he  had 
fallen,  so  that  he  was  quite  ready  to  respond  with  his  usual  cheer- 
fulness to  the  little  bustle  of  glad  welcome  with  which  their  return 
home  was  always  hailed. 

Once,  in  the  course  of  the  evening,  Kate  perceived  him  re- 
lapse into  his  thoughtful  mood.  She  was  in  the  habit — upon  the 
liirhts  (-(lining  in — (when  the  curious  antique  brass  lamp,  with  its 
ctMitral  reservoir  of  oil,  surrounded  by  dangling  implements  for 
snuffing  and  trimming  the  wick,  which  is  still  in  common  use 
thereabouts,  made  its  appearance) — of  reading  Italian  with  Mrs. 
Lindnn,  wlin  had  kindly  proposed  it  to  her;  and,  while  thus  era- 
plnye'l.  .-In-  -  i-.v  licr  undc,  aft  or  taking  up  <mc  of  tlio  books  from 
the  table,  and  li^tle.-sly  turning  over  the  leaves,  fix  his  attention 


152  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

npon  something  be  found  there ;  and,  as  he  continued  his  con 
temptation,  she  heard  him  give  an  unconscious  half-sigh.  On 
contriving  to  peep  over  his  shoulder,  and  learn  what  it  could  be 
that  engrossed  him  thus,  she  saw  that  the  book  was  a  volume  of 
Petrarch's  sonnets,  that  there  was  a  picture  of  the  poet's  mistress, 
and  that  upon  the  one  word  written  beneath,  her  uncle's  eyes 
rested — "  Laura." 

She  closed  her  own  book,  and  drew  him  gently  into  conversa- 
tion ;  leading  it  to  cheerful  topics,  and  winning  Mrs.  Lindon  to 
second  her  intention,  by  supplying  them  with  food  for  entertain- 
ing talk,  until  no  trace  remained  of  his  thoughtfulness. 

A  few  days  after  this,  as  they  were  strolling  through  the 
range  of  rooms  at  the  Palazzo  Pitti,  on  entering  the  one  of  them 
containing,  among  other  noble  paintings,  Allori's  magnificent 
painting  of  "  Judith,"  the  'Squire  exclaimed,  "  Your  favourite 
seat  is  taken,  Kate  !  " 

Kate  was  in  the  habit  of  sitting,  for  a  long  time  each  day,  in 
one  particular  arm-chair,  which  stood  opposite  the  fine  work 
above  cited.  There  was  something  in  that  face,  replete  with 
luxuriant  beauty  of  feature,  yet  strangely  full  of  a  dark  and  ter- 
rible relentlessness — formed  in  the  very  wealth  of  linear  loveli- 
ness, but  stern  with  inflexibility  of  will  and  resolved  purpose — 
which  possessed  a  singular  power  over  the  imagination  of  Kate 
Ireton.  She  was  never  tired  of  gazing  upon  the  face  ;  never 
weary  of  scrutinizing  the  look  it  wore,  of  scanning  the  meaning, 
of  interpreting  the  intention,  of  seeking  to  comprehend  the  entire 
scope  of  that  expression,  which  the  painter's  art  had  so  subtly 
indicated.  The  vivid  way  in  which  the  picture  was  coloured,  the 
masterly  manner  in  which  each  of  the  respective  substances  of 
velvet,  silk,  woollen,  and  flesh,  were  severally  distinguished  and 
rendered  ;  the  artistic  mode  in  which  the  old  woman  attendant's 
head  is  introduced,  in  contrast  with  that  young  creature's  in  its 
full  vigour  and  prime  of  beauty,  were  but  subordinate  points  in 
the  strong  impression  produced  upon  Kate.  She  could  per- 
ceive— could  appreciate  them  ;  but  it  was  the  Judith's  face  alone 
which  concentrated  her  interest. 


THE    IUON    COUSIN.  153 

it  chanced  ou  this  particular  morning  that  the  arm-chair  her 
ande  always  called  hers  was  occupied  by  a  gentleman;  who, 
nowever,  on  hearing  the  'Squire's  exclamation,  immediately  arose, 
and,  with  :i  bow,  relinquished  it  to  her. 

Kate  had  scarcely  acknowledged  his  courtesy  when  a  look  of 
recognition  crossed  his  face,  as  he  caught  sight  of  her  uncle,  and 
addressed  him,  as  having  met  before,  with  easy,  yet  respectful 
grace,  calling  to  mind  their  encounter  at  the  "  Oascine,"  an  even- 
ing or  two  since. 

The  'Squire,  with  less  of  his  customary  good-natured,  readi- 
ness in  reply,  when  spoken  to  pleasantly,  than  his  niece  had  ever 
before  observed  in  him,  muttered  a  few  inarticulate  words  by 
way  of  answer,  and  remained  silently  looking  in  the  young 
Englishman's  face,  with  a  breathless,  absent  air,  while  the  latter 
made  a  remark  to  Kate  upon  the  surpassing  merits  of  her  favour- 
ite picture. 

Shf  rarely  discussed  her  own  impressions,  especially  when 
enthusiastic,  rather  charily  hoarding  them  within  her  own  heart, 
as  sufficing  delights  to  herself,  but  liable  to  misconstruction  from 
others,  as  affected,  or  overstrained.  But  there  was  something 
in  tli is  young  Englishman's  manner,  at  once  so  frank,  yet  so  un- 
forward — a  something  in  his  tone  familiar  and  easy,  yet  unpre- 
Kuming,  open  and  direct,  yet  unobtrusive — that  Kate  felt  at  once 
won  into  equal  case  and  freedom  with  him. 

She  was  in  the  midst  of  some  very  eager  assent  to  the  high 
praises  he  had  bestowed  upon  the  Judith,  when  her  uncle  sud- 
denly broke  from  his  silence,  unheeding  that  she  was  speaking, 
with  :  "  I  beg  your  pardon,  my  dear  young  sir,  but  you  bear  so 
extraordinary  a  resemblance  to  a  lady  I  once — once — knew; 
that  is,  your  face  is  so  wonderfully  like — it  is  such  a  remarkable 
likeness — in  short,  I  hope  you  will  forgive  me  if  I  ask  you  a 
point-blank  question.  Are  you  related  to  any  one  of  the  name 
of  Dam,  r  '.'  » 

"  Mv  mother's  name  was  Darner,  before  she  married,"  replied 
•in::  L'eiitloiiiaii.  •'  My  father  was  an  officer  in  the  British 


154  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

army,  in  India,  where  I  was  born ,    my  own   name   is   Cecil 
Lascelles." 

"  The  same,  the  same  !  My  dear  young  friend. — allow  mo 
to  call  you  so,"  said  the  good  'Squire,  as  he  grasped  the  young 
man's  hand  heartily  between  both  his;  "  I  had  the  honour  of 
your  admirable  mother's  acquaintance,  many  years  ago,  when  she 
resided  with  her  family  in  our  county ;  and  I  am  delighted  with 
this  opportunity  of  making  the  friendship  of  her  son.  By  mercy  ! . 
you  have  her  smile,  young  sir  !  You  have  her  eyes  ;  you  have, 
indeed,  when  you  smile  !  " 

The  'Squire's  own  eyes  glistened  as  he  ran  on  gaily  and 
rapidly,  to  conceal  what  there  might  be  of  deeper  feeling,  in  his 
gladness  to  behold  one  so  near  and  dear  to  her,  of  whom  he  had 
never  ceased  to  entertain  a  tender  recollection,  as  a  bright,  supe- 
rior being — the  human  star  of  his  youthful  manhood. 

The  pleasure  which  'Squire  Heathcote  felt  on  first  learning 
who  Cecil  Lascelles  was,  formed  but  the  precursor  of  that  which 
he  derived  from  his  society  on  farther  acquaintance.  His  liking 
for  him  grew  into  strong  partiality  and  personal  attachment. 
He  found  him  a  most  pleasant  companion  ;  lively,  good-humoured, 
unaffected ;  full  of  animation,  and  light-hearted,  almost  boyish 
spirits ;  yet  by  no  means  shallow  or  ill-informed.  He  had  had  a 
careful  education — the  very  best  that  could  be  procured  in  his 
native  country.  He  had  never  left  India*  before ;  but  he  was 
now  on  his  way  thence,  to  pay  his  first  visit  to  the  land  which  had 
given  birth  to  both  his  parents,  and  where  he  was  to  be  presented 
to  some  distinguished  relations,  who  still  survived  there.  Colo- 
nel Lascelles,  and  the  honourable  Laura  Darner,  whom  he  had 
married,  and  lately  left  a  widow,  were  each  of  them  descended 
from  families  of  high  rank  ;  and  it  was  with  the  view  of  reviving 
the  connection  between  herself  and  her  noble  relatives  (which 
her  long  sojourn  in  India  had  in  a  measure  broken),  on  behalf  of 
her  only  son,  that  Mrs.  Lascelles  resolved  to  accompany  him  to 
Britain. 

They  had  set  sail  in  a  homeward-bound  East  Indiaman ; 
which,  touching  at  Lisbon,  had  given  Mrs.  Lascelles  the  oppor 


THE   IRON   CO!  155 

tunity  of  urging  her  son  to  visit  the  south  of  Europe,  on  his  way 
to  England,  which  she  knew  had  been  long  a  desire  of  his,  al- 
though his  wish  to  attend  her  to  their  journey's  end  would  have 
prevented  his  fulfilling  it,  had  she  not  pressed  him  to  do  so.  He 
yielded  at  length  to  her  persuasion,  upon  her  assuring  him  that 
the  friends  who  sailed  with  them  formed  sufficient  escort ;  and 
that  her  preceding  him  to  England  would  only  the  better  enable 
her  to  execute  her  plans  for  preparing  his  uncle,  the  Earl  of 
Wrexham,  and  the  rest  of  their  kindred,  to  receive  him  favour- 
ably when  he  should  arrive. 

He  had  crossed  Portugal,  Spain,  and  the  south  of  France  ; 
thence  had  embarked  to  Naples,  where  he  had  made  a  short  stay ; 
another  at  Rome  ;  and  had  just  reached  Florence,  purposing  to 
spend  some  time  there,  ere  he  proceeded  to  Milan  and  Venice,  in 
his  journey  northward  to  join  his  mother. 

When  the  'Squire,  Kate,  and  Cecil,  left  the  gallery  that 
morning,  they  spent  the  remainder  of  the  day  together  in  the 
adjoining  fine  grounds  of  the  Boboli  gardens,  wandering  among 
the  deep  shades  of  the  embowered  terrace-walks,  during  the  hot- 
ter sunny  hours  ;  and  when  they  at  length  emerged,  in  the  after- 
noon, the  'Squire  would  not  even  then  part  with  his  young  friend, 
but  begged  him  to  waive  ceremony,  and  come  and  dine  with  them 
at  the  hotel,  where  they  occupied  an  apartment,  whenever  staying 
in  Florence. 

"  I  feel  as  if  I  had  known  you  long  enough,  my  dear  young 
Bir,  to  use  this  freedom  with  you  :  just  treating  you  as  one  of 
ourselves,"  said  the  'Squire.  "  The  truth  is,  we  have  no  fixed 
residence  in  the  town.  We  we  staying  at  a  friend's  house,  a 
short  distance  from  Florence — a  most  pretty  '  campagna,'  where 
I  hope  you'll  come  and  see  us ;  it  will  be  only  a  pleasant  ride  to 
you  who  are  a  horseman.  It  is  in  the  Val  d'Arno,  not  far  from 
the  river,  and  is  called  Valletta."  . 

"  Valletta  !  I  know  it  well !  A  most  charming  place  it  is, 
and  had  very  nearly  been  my  own  quarters.  A  friend  here  re- 
romnifinltMl  it  to  me,  as  a  spot  where,  if  I  could  obtain  admission, 
I  should  be  passing  comfortable.  I  rode  over  to  see  it,  and  was 
only  t'>o  ::>u< -h  struck  with  its  attractions;  since  I  found  the  ladf 


J56  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

of  the  house  could  not  receive  me,  expecting,  as  she  did,  visitors 
from  England.  I  have  no  doubt  you  are  these  very  expected 
friends,  of  whom  I  heard,  before  I  saw  you." 

"  To  be  sure  !  And  you  are  the  very  young  Englishman,  of 
whom  we  were  told,  as  having  been  inhospitably  refused  entrance, 
lest  we  should  be  incommoded,"  returned  the  'Squire.  "  But  1 
assure  you.  there's  no  want  of  space  ;  and  I  think  the  least  we  can 
do,  is  to  make  room  for  you,  and  intercede  with  Mrs.  Lindon  tc 
admit  you,  after  all.  What  say  you,  Kate  ?  " 

<:  I  say  with  you,  uncle  ;  it  is  the  least  we  can  do.  And  1 
undertake  to  do  more.  I  will  promise  to  make  Mrs.  Lindon 
agree  to  this  pleasant  arrangement.  She  lets  .me  '  make  '  her  do 
whatever  I  fancy ;  and  I  have  no  doubt  that,  in  this  instance, 
she'll  require  no  '  making,'  but  be  as  pleased  as  ourselves." 

"  You  are  very  good — very  kind,"  said  Cecil,  looking  his  de- 
light to  both  uncle  and  niece ;  "  the  arrangement  cannot  be  so 
pleasant  to  you  as  to  me  ;  but  I  thank  you,  nevertheless,  for  let- 
ting me  feel  it  will  not  be  unwelcome.  Tell  Mrs.  Lindon,  with 
my  kind  regards,  that  I  shall  be  very  impatient  till  she  can  send 
me  word  I  may  come  and  take  up  my  abode  with  you  all  at 
Valletta." 

u  I  think  I  can  answer  that  we  shall  bring  you  the  intelli- 
gence no  later  than  to-morrow,"  answered  the  'Squire.  "  And 
now,  what  say  you  to  a  turn  or  two  round  the  '  Cascine,'  before 
we  wend  homewards  ?  " 

"  With  all  my  heart,  sir ;  I  shall  always  like  the  place  the 
better,  agreeable  as  it  is  in  itself,  for  having  first  met  you  there," 
returned  Cecil. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

DAYS  melted  into  weeks,  and  weeks  into  months,  so  pleasantly 
did  the  time  pass  with  the  little  circle  at  Valletta ;  and  yet  there 
x&a  no  talk  of  Cecil's  leaving  Florence  to  continue  his  route. 
Indeed,  he  had  received  letters  from  Mrs.  Lascelles,  bidding  hin< 


THE    IRON    COUS1IT.  157 

to  bo  in  no  baste  to  quit  Italy,  until  he  should  have  satisfied  his 
roaming  curiosity ;  for  that  she  was  spending  the  winter  with  her 
old  maiden  aunt,  Lady  Diana  Freseley,  at  Cheltenham  ;  and 
she  could  not  have  the  heart  to  inflict  upon  a  young  man  the  te- 
dious humdrum  of  dowager  society,  and  nightly  whist-plaving, 
when  he  could  pass  his  time  so  much  more  pleasantly  and  profit- 
ably abroad,  while  she  watched  his  interests,  and  advanced  hii 
prospects  for  him  in  England.  Therefore  Cecil,  only  too  rejoiced 
to  have  his  mother's  permission  square  with  his  own  inclination, 
lingered  where  he  was,  deferring  his  visit  to  Lombardy  and  Ve- 
nice until  later. 

He  and  his  new  friends  liked  each  other  better  and  better, 
upon  further  knowledge.  Between  persons^  so  well  suited  in  tem- 
per— the  'Squire,  simple,  honest-hearted,  straightforward  ;  Kate, 
plain  .-spoken,  and  unreserved  ;  Cecil,  frank  and  open — the  inti- 
macy and  freedom  of  daily  intercourse  and  daily  consociation  neces- 
sarily produced  mutual  good-will  and  liking.  They  were  sooii 
on  the  familiar  footing  of  a  family-party ;  and  seemed  as  if  they 
had  hardly  ever  been  any  thing  else,  but  had  dwelt  together  all 
their  lives.  The  winter  was  gone,  and  Kate  Ireton  had  had  her 
wish  of  witnessing  how  Christmas  was  spent  out  of  England.  She 
had  had  her  hope  amply  fulfilled  of  passing  through  those  long 
months  of  wonted  gloom  and  dreary  weather,  with  scarcely  any 
absence  of  the  sun.  Even  the  cold  winds  which  sometimes  prevail 
in  Florence,  were  sparing  that  season.  Spring  was  bursting  forth, 
and  found  Kate  still  with  unabated,  unsatiated  relish  of  the 
beauties  of  Italy, — of  its  climate,  its  scenery,  its  abounding 
charms  of  Art  and  of  Nature.  The  'Squire,  indeed,  was  not  80 
untired  of  his  foreign  sojourn  ;  but  he  took  care  to  conceal  his 
own  secret  pinings  after  home,  so  long  as  he  perceived  Kate  show 
no  symptoms  of  desiring  to  return  thither. 

About  this  time,  he  received  a  letter  from  Fermor  Worthing- 
ton — who  had  written  several  times,  at  no  long  intervals,  to  hi» 
friends,  ami  they  to  him — stating  that  his  father's  gradual  decay 
had  at  length  terminated  in  the  foreseen  close;  that  In:  had  died 
in  hi.H  amis,  blessing  him  for  his  filial  duty  and  attachment,  and 


158  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

showing  more  warmth  and  strength  of  affection  during  those  ex- 
piring moments,  than  he  had  ever -before  indulged  himself  with 
giving  utterance  to.  Fermor  went  on  to  say,  the  discovery  of 
how  dearly  and  deeply  his  father  had  loved  him  beneath  that 
calm,  undemonstrative  exterior,  had  profoundly  affected  and  pene- 
trated him  ;  and  that,  he  now  more  than  ever  felt  grateful  to  think 
he  had  never  allowed  himself  to  be  tempted  into  leaving  him ;  for 
not  only  should  he  have  been  deprived  of  the  consolation  of 
knowing  his  presence  was  a  solace  to  his  father,  but  he  should 
have  lost  the  supreme  comfort  and  happiness  of  learning  the  ex- 
tent of  that  father's  love  for  him.  The  letter  ended  by  saying, 
he  should  even  now  have  come  over  to  them ;  but  that  he  had 
affairs  to  settle,  which  required  personal  investigation,  and  which 
had  been  left  to  his  especial  care  by  him  whom  he  had  just  lost ; 
that  therefore,  however  unwillingly,  he  was  compelled  to  give  up 
the  hope  he  had  cherished,  of  being  able  to  join  them  in  time  to 
accompany  them  back  to  England. 

"  Just  like  Fermor  !  Ever  upright !  Ever  conscientious  ! 
Ever  preferring  duty  to  inclination ;  and  thinking  of  justice  to 
others,  before  indulgence  to  himself.  A  thorough  fine  fellow  is 
Fermor  Worthiugton.  By  mercy  !  I  hold  it  an  honour  to  be 
akin  to  him." 

"  Who  is  this  excellent  relation  of  yours,  'Squire  ?  He  must 
be  a  capital  good  fellow,  from  your  mode  of  speaking  of  him," 
said  Cecil  Lascelles. 

"  He  is  a  young  cousin  of  ours — a  true-bred,  true-hearted 
young  Englishman,  whom  I  shall  one  day  hope  to  make  known 
to  you,  when  you  come  to  Heathcote,  Cecil,"  returned  the 
Squire. 

Cecil  Lascelles  expressed  his  hearty  concurrence  in  this  hope  ; 
and  then  turned  to  Kate,  and  asked  her  whether  she  had  nothing 
to  say,  that  should  heighten  the  desire  to  know  this  estimable 
kinsman  of  theirs,  which  the  'Squire's  words  had  awakened. 

"  I  have  only  to  say  that  the  Iron  Cousin's  letter  is  of  a  piece 
with  the  Iron  Cousin  himself;  riveted  in  right,  firm-set  in  princi- 
ple, welded  immovably  and  integrally  in  integrity,"  she  said, 


Tin1.    RON  cousra.  15ft 

laughing.  "  Come,  are  we  not  to  ride  into  Florence  this  morn 
ing  ?  Shall  we  not  be  late  for  our  Fiesole  expedition,  if  it  take 
place;  to-day  ?  There  are  the  horses  waiting  for  us." 

They  had  hardly  entered  the  Piazza,  when,  as  they  approached 
the  post-office,  the  "Squire  uttered  an  exclamation  of  surprise  and 
pleasure,  at  seeing  a  gentleman' whom  he  recognized  at  once  as 
an  old  hunting  associate  of  his,  loitering  near,  about  to  apply  foi 
letters. 

He  rode  up  to  him,  leaned  from  his  horse,  gave  him  a  hearty 
slap  on  the  shoulders,  and  shouted  in  his  ear  a  fox-hunting  view- 
halloo,  which  rang  sharp,  and  loud,  and  strange,  all  over  the  broad 
I'ia/.za. 

The  gentleman  turned,  in  measureless  astonishment,  to  behold 
his  old  friend,  'Squire  Heathcote,  in  the  heart  of  Florence. 

After  making  vices  of  their  hands,  and  nearly  dislocating 
each  other's  arms,  and  all  but  wrenching  them  from  their  sockets, 
they  seemed  to  have  arrived  at  a  satisfactory  attempt  to  convey 
some  faint  idea  of  their  over-boiling  content  at  this  unexpected 
meeting ;  and  then  the  'Squire  begged  his  friend  to  come  to  the 
hotel  immediately,  and  lunch,  and  dine,  and  spend  the  day  with 
him,  and  chat  over  all  they  had  to  say  to  each  other.  This  was 
the  more  necessary,  as  the  friend  was  obliged  to  leave  Florence 
that  same  afternoon.  Finding  such  to  be  the  case,  the  'Squire 
tiirin-1  to  Kate  and  Cecil,  and  told  them  he  should  not  detain 
them  from  the  proposed  excursion  for  that  day;  bade  his  niece 
not  think  of  giving  it  up  on  his  account ;  and  smilingly  told  her 
that  he  should  do  very  well  without  her  for  these  few  hours,  and 
that  she  must  try  and  dc  without  him  for  the  like  short  time,  just 
for  once  in  a  way. 

There  had  been  a  riding-jaunt  and  pic-nic  planned  to  Fiesole 
and  its  neighbourhood  ;  Kate  and  her  uncle  having  promised 
Cecil  to  be  of  the  party,  to  which  they  had  been  invited,  and 
which  had  been  made  up  for  him  by  some  young  friends  of  his 
in  Florence  to  whom  he  had  brought  letters  of  introduction  on 
liis  first  arrival.  There  were  ladies  among  them,  sisters  of  his 
male  acquaintances,  so  that  'Squire  Hoathcotc  had  no  hesitation 


160  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

in  sending  his  niece,  although  he  could  not  go  with  her,  tolling 
Cecil  he  confided  her  to  his  care,  and  saying  that  they  were  to 
return  straight  to  Valletta,  instead  of  coming  back  through 
Florence,  as  he  should  probably  be  home  long  before  them,  the 
'Squire  went  away  with  his  old  companion,  in  high  spirits  and 
glee. 

The  equestrian  portion  of  the  cavalcade  consisted  of  some 
fashionable  young  people,  residing  there  for  the  season ;  whose 
parents,  having  been  formerly  acquainted  with  the  Darner  family, 
Cecil  Lascelles  was  received  with  much  cordiality  among  them, 
when  he  tendered  his  mother's  credentials  of  presentation.  The 
elders  went  in  carriages  ;  and  altogether,  the  party  formed  a  con 
siderable  assemblage.  The  spot  where  they  were  to  dine,  was  on 
one  of  the  umbrageous  lawns  in  the  gardens  of  Pratolino.  The 
ride  thither  was  very  entertaining  to  Kate  Ire  ton.  There  was 
sprightly  conversation  going  on  between  Cecil  Lascelles  and  his 
acquaintances,  to  which  she  listened  with  the  amusement  and  in- 
terest of  one  who  had  seldom  associated  with  young  people  of  her 
own  age.  It  was  curious  to  her,  who  had  seen  no  specimen  of 
the  genus,  fashionable  young  lady,  save  Alicia  White, — this 
opportunity  of  watching  some  of  their  appearance  and  beha 
viour. 

There  was  a  dashing  girl,  named  Constantia  Sniythe,  sister 
to  a  young  cavalry  officer,  who  looked  like  her  brother's  counter- 
part, rather  exaggerated ;  for  while  he  lisped  and  used  essence 
on  his  pocket-handkerchief,  and  wore  extremely  shiny  boots, 
which  he  seemed  sadly  afraid  would  get  covered  with  dust,  and 
had  an  eye-glass  screwed  into  his  eye  to  inspect  the  accurate  fit- 
ting of  his  lemon-coloured  kid  gloves, — she  talked  in  a  loud, 
abrupt  voice,  stuck  her  handkerchief  into  the  breast  of  her  habit, 
cared  nothing  for  displaying  her  boots,  dusty  or  not  dusty,  in 
mounting  and  dismounting,  stared  straight  at  every  thing,  and 
boldly  at  every  body  ;  drew  up  her  riding  gauntlets  with  the  tug 
of  a  dragoon,  and  slashed  the  skirt  of  her  habit  with  her  whip,  as 
a  man  slaps  his  knee,  to  give  emphasis  to  her  speech.  There 
was  a  die  away  girl,  who  languished  and  simpered,  and  protested 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  16l 

•he  was  sinking  with  fatigue,  and  fainting  with  the  heat,  and 
swooning  with  exhaustion  and  excitement.  There  was  a  sketch 
ing  girl,  who  was  always  begging  them  to  stop,  even  if  they  could 
not  wuit  while  she  took  some  "  charming  bit,"  or  some  "  point 
of  view,"  or  some  "  chiaro-scuro  effect."  There  was  a  sentimen- 
tal girl ;  a  poetical  girl ;  and  a  scientific  girl ;  who  each  worked 
hard  to  impress  upon  the  bystanders  the  peculiar  characteristic! 
which  she  chose  to  adopt  as  her  becoming  individuality.  No 
professional  young  woman  could  have  been  more  assiduous  and 
diligent  at  her  calling  than  these  amateur  young  ladies  at  their 
trade  of  self-exhibition ;  yet  each  of  them  could,  upon  occasion, 
inveigh  against  actresses,  sneer  at  singers,  and  scorn  artists  of  all 
kinds.  It  was  edifying  to  hear  them  expatiate  upon  the  vanity, 
the  public  display,  the  mercenariness,  the  indelicacy,  the  degra- 
dation of  person  and  talent,  in  such  people  ;  but  conceit,  show* 
oil',  calculations  of  rent-rolls,  submitting  to  court  and  be  courted 
without  one  spark  of  preference,  seeking  matches  with  shameless 
eagerness,  and  making  a  mart  of  accomplishments,  with  wealthy 
wedlock  in  view,  instead  of  exerting  themselves  with  independent 
livelihood  as  an  object,  were  quite  different  matters. 

'•  Why,  Lascelles  !  "  shouted  Miss  Constantia  Smythe  to  Ce- 
cil (.she  invariably  addressed  men  by  their  surnames,  without  any 
superfluous  prefatory  '  Mr.'),  and  glancing  at  Kate  Ireton  as  she 
spoke,  "  what  a  silent  addition  to  the  party,  your  companion  Miss 
What's  her-name,  is  1  Is  she  too  timid  to  speak  ?  Tell  her  not 
to  be  afraid  of  us.  We  sha'n't  eat  her  up  at  a  mouthful." 

"  I'm  not  at  all  timid  ;  and  I'm  sure  I  have  nothing  to  fear 
from  any  of  you,"  replied  Kate,  answering  for  herself,  and  with 
a  roguish  smile  in  her  eyes.  "  You,  none  of  you,  I  think  would 
be  able  to  gobble  me  up,  even  if  I  were  dainty  enough  to  tempt 
you.'1 

"  But  you  might  be  afraid  of  another  kind  of  snapping  up, 
more  terrible  than  being  munched  and  eaten.  I  mean  i|uizzing, 
child.  You  might  be  afraid,  if  you  entered  into  talk,  wo  might 
be  tempted  to  cut  you  up,  though  we  mightn't  eat  you,  you  know." 

"  I  don't  know  what  quizzing  i.s,  woman,"  said  Kate,  laughing 

"  Woman  !  "  echoed  Miss  Smythe,  indignantly. 


162  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  Child  1  "  returned  Kate,  in  the  same  tone,  but  still  laughing 
tt  If  I  am  young  enough  to  be  called  '  child,'  you  are,  perhaps 
womanly  enough  to  be  called  '  woman.'  " 

There  was  a  smile  on  Cecil  Lascelles'  lips,  and  on  that  of  one 
or  two  other  young  men  who  rode  nearest  to  the  speakers,  at  this 
palpable  hit  of  Kate's  at  Miss  Constantia's  manly  style. 

Miss  Smythe  caught  the  expression  of  their  faces,  and  looked, 
for  a  moment,  nettled.  The  next  instant,  she  burst  into  a  loud 
laugh,  and  exclaimed,  with  that  peculiar  slash  of  her  whip  before 
mentioned,  "  Corpo  di  Bacco  !  as  they  say  here, — that's  not  bad  ! 
I've  a  notion  that  it's  some  or  other  of  us  who'll  have  to  be  afraid, 
not  you.  For  a  young  lady  innocent,  who  don't  know  what  quiz- 
zing means,  it's  a  tolerable  beginning." 

"  I'm  happy  to  take  a  hint  of  fashionable  practices,  from  one 
who  seems  so  accomplished  in  them,"  said  Kate. 

"  A  hint  to  avoid,  or  a  hint  to  acquire  ?  "  asked  Miss  Smythe. 

"  I  leave  you  to  judge  which  would  become  me  best,"  answer- 
ed Kate. 

"  Ah,  you're  a  sly  puss,  I  can  see,  with'  all  your  quiet  ways. 
Once  rouse  you  from  your  sleek  silence,  and  you  can  show  your 
teeth,  and  claws  too,  with  the  best  of  us.  But  I  like  you  none 
the  worse  for  it ;  I  like  you  none  the  worse  for  it.  I  admire  a 
girl  of  spirit." 

"  I  might  retort  the  '  sly  puss  '  with  '  you're  a  jolly  dog,'  or 
'  well  done,  my  buck  ! '  But  you  might  take  such  names  as  too 
complimentary  ;  others  might  say, '  I  like  you  the  worse  for  them ; 
I  like  you  the  worse  for  them.'" 

"  Here,  Lascelles,  Byng,  Maberley,  one  of  you  creatures,  come 
and  take  this  gentle  damsel  off  my  hands  !  She's  too  much  for 
me,  I  own,"  said  Miss  Constantia,  pushing  back  her  hat  from  her 
forehead,  and  looking  round  her  with  a  laugh. 

"  You  can't  have  too  much  of  a  good  thing,  surely,"  smirked 
Ensign.  Byng,  as  he  moved  his  horse  towards  Kate  ;  "  and  Mis.^ 
Ireton  has  been  saying  nothing  but  good  things  for  the  last  ten 
minutes." 

"  Pert  things  can't  be  called  good  things,  can  they  ?"  replied 


THE   IRON    COUSIN.  168 

•bf  u  Bad  things,  rather ;  and  bad  things  are  apt  to  be  offen- 
sive things.  Let  rae  assure  Miss  Smythe  that  they  were  not 
meant  offensively,  though  they  might  be  spoken  a  little  flippantly, 
for  the  sake  of  answering  her  own  smart  jesting." 

Miss  Constantia  Smythe  burst  into  her  horse-laugh,  assuring 
4vate  that  she  was  a  good  soul,  and  she  heartily  forgave  her  for 
any  rudeness,  and  would  have  liked  her  better  if  she  hadn't 
shown  the  white  feather  at  last  by  apologizing. 

"  There's  nothing  craven  in  apology,  when  you  know  yourself 
to  blame :  if  I  hadn't  felt  that  I  really  was  perhaps  rude  in 
speaking  as  I  did  to  a  perfect  stranger,  I  should  never  have 
dreamed  of  offering  a  single  word  that  seemed  like  owning  I  was 
wrong,"  said  Kate. 

"  It'th  a  deuthed  baw,  that  owning  one  'th  wrong,"  lisped  the 
young  officer,  Constantia' s  brother  ;  "  I  don't  know  a  thing  at  all, 
that'th  a  maw  deuthed  and  dethided  baw,  than  athking  pardon, 
and  forgiveueth,  and  tho-fawth.  A  brathe  of  pithtolth,  and 
fawty  patheth,  are  thicthty  timeth  better,  any  day." 

"  Even  if  you  have,  through  mistake,  hurt  a  person's  feelings, 
do  you  think  it  would  be  better  to  risk  killing  him,  or  to  give 
him  a  chance  of  blowing  your — at  least  of  shooting  you  through 
the  head,  than  to  say  you're  sorry?"  said  Kate. 

"  Oh,  thpare  me,  pray,  Mith  Ireton  ! "  drawled   Mr.   Henry 

Wne;  "I'm  not  equal  to  a  wit  You're  a  wit,  you  know! 
Now,  I  never  pretended  to  be  a  wit,  and  never  thall  be  a  wit, 
and  haven't  the  leatht  dethire  to  be  a  wit." 

••  You  are  better  than  a  wit ;  you  are  a  wise  man,"  she  said. 
'•  You  have  self-knowledge,  and  are  above  setting  your  heart 
upon  hopeless  and  unattainable  objects.  They  say,  a  contented 
mind  is  a  perpetual  feast;  what  an  epicurean  life  you  must 
bad 

<  i:i«l !  Talking  of  feathting,  and  epicureth  and  tho-fawth," 
h<-  returned,  with  more  energy  of  manner  than  he  had  yet  shown, 
"  I'm  curthed  hungry,  I  can  tell  you  that !  I  wonder  when  w« 
shall  ever  arrive  at  thith  dcuthed  what-ye-call-'em  plathe — Pr» 
tolino:"1 


164  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  It's  not  far  off  now,"  said  young  Maberley.  "  And  a  good 
thing  too  !  Then  we  shall  have  a  glass  of  champagne  all  round, 
which'll  do  us  good.  It's  confounded  slow,  this  pic-nic-mg  busi- 
ness— all  but  the  eating  and  drinking  part  of  the  concern." 

"  Oh,  you  Goth ! "  exclaimed  the  sentimental  young  lady  , 
which  he,  taking  as  a  flattering  token  that  she  wished  to  have  » 
little  flirtation,  rode  round  to  her  side,  and  indulged  her  by 
listening  to  the  silly  nothings,  and  sickly  platitudes,  she  com- 
menced levelling  at  his  heir  ship  to  three  thousand  a-year. 

When  they  arrived  at  Pratolino,  there  was  a  general  descent 
from  the  carriages,  and  dismounting  from  horseback,  that  the 
whole  party  might  stroll  through  the  lovely  grounds. 

"  Lascelles,  my  good  fellow  !  come  and  give  me  your  shoulder ! " 
cried  Miss  Constantia  Smythe ;  "  though  I  can  get  off  my  horse 
myself,  yet  I  don't  scorn  the  help  of  a  man,  when  I  can  get  it! " 
And  she  laughed  long  and  loud. 

"  One  moment,  and  I  am  at  your  service.  Miss  Smythe," 
returned  Cecil,  as  he  stayed  by  Kate,  to  assist  her  from  her 
saddle. 

"  Oh,  there's  Byng  will  attend  to  your  young  lady  friend  ! 
I  see  he's  waiting  to  dismount  her,"  returned  Miss  Smythe. 
"  Come  here,  when  I  bid  you." 

"  Pardon  me,"  answered  Cecil  Lascelles,  without  stirring ; 
"  Miss  Ireton's  uncle  gave  her  into  my  especial  charge.  I  will 
but  fulfil  my  duty,  and  then  I'm  at  your  disposal." 

"  I'll  take  care  of  Miss  Ireton.  Miss  Ireton,  permit  me," 
said  Ensign  Byng,  gallantly  advancing. 

"  Excuse  me,"  persisted  Cecil,  quietly  ;  {1  I  was  entrusted  to 
attend  upon  Miss  Ireton,  and  I  cannot  let  another  perform  my 
office." 

"  I  would  not  have  detained  you  so  long,  Cecil,  but  that  the 
lash  of  my  whip  got  entangled  in  the  horse's  net,"  said  Kate 
"  Now  I  am  ready." 

Cecil  lifted  her  down,  and  then  drew  her  arm  within  his,  as 
bo  moved  in  the  direction  of  Miss  Smythe. 

"  Give  me  leave — one  instant,  Kate,"  he  said,  as  he  quitted 


THE    IKON    CODSIN.  105 

her,  to  step  forward,  and  yield  the  required  aid  to  Miss  Constan- 
tia ;  but  she  leaped  off  before  be  could  reach  her  side,  crying 
with  her  usual  horse-laugh  :  "  You'll  be  a  little  quicker  next 
time  I  ask  you  to  lend  me  a  hand,  sir  squire  of  dames!  I  can't 
wait  all  day,  while  you're  dawdling  and  dangling  after  fifty  other 
women  before  you  come  to  me.  Here,  Byng !  give  me  your  arm, 
there's  a  good  fellow,  for  a  ramble  through  the  park.  I'll  pro- 
mise not  to  make  too  strong  love  to  you !  You  needn't  be  afraid 
to  trust  yourself  with  me." 

The  party  broke  up  into  walking  detachments,  of  two  and 
two,  or  three  and  four  together,  according  to  the  inclination  of 
the  moment,  with  the  general  understanding  that  they  were  all 
to  meet  at  a  particular  spot,  half  an  hour  hence,  for  dinner. 

Kate  and  Cecil  walked  on,  arm-in-arm,  content  to  enjoy  the 
beauty  of  the  place  in  silence,  and  glad  of  a  little  peace  and  quiet, 
amid  so  much  chatter,  and  criticism,  and  rapturizing  that  was 
pmiir  on  around  them;  but  they  were  not  long  left  undisturbed, 
since  Miss  Constantia  Smythe  took  a  fancy  to  lounge  by  Cecil's 
side,  while  Ensign  Byng  loitered  near  to  Kate  Ireton,  entertain- 
ing her  with  a  dissertation  upon  the  last  new  opera  produced  at 
Florence,  although  she  told  him  she  had  heard  the  music  and 
knew  it  well. 

The  repast  went  off,  as  such  kind  of  repasts  usually  do ;  that 
is  to  say,  there  was  a  great  deal  of  needless  profusion,  each  mem- 
ber of  the  party  having  been  anxious  not  to  be  outdone  in  osten- 
tatious contribution  by  the  others ;  or,  dreading  to  seem  mean, 
had  been  foolishly  extravagant ;  and  then,  when  all  was  over,  no 
one  choosing  to  reclaim  their  overplus,  or  have  it  collectively 
frathercd,  it  was  wasted  and  left;  grooms,  horseboys,  and  people 
at  the  lodge,  battening  upon  heaps  of  Strasburg  pies,  cold  fowls, 
tongues  in  jelly,  pates  de-foie-gras,  rich  cakes,  and  floods  of  chain 
pagne. 

At  loiiL'th,  tli<>  party  re  assembled,  and  the  cavalcade  was  ro 
forn.cil  to  return  to  Florence,  taking  Fiesole  in  their  way. 


166  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

"  THO  !  "  exclaimed  the  young  cavalry  officer,  as  he  fitted  his  glass 
into  his  eye,  and  held  it  there  by  a  dexterous  pinch  of  his  brow 
and  cheek,  and  looked  around :  "  Tho  !  thith  ith  the  fnmouth 
thpot  where  the  old  chap  thpyed  at  the  Heaventh  till  he  found 
out  that  the  Earth  didn't  thtand  thtock  thtill,  but  thpun  round  !  " 

"Ay,  this  is  indeed  the 'top  of  Fiesole!'  You  remember, 
of  course,  Milton's  splendid  lines  ?  "  said  the  poetical  young  lady. 
And  as  every  body  remembered  them,  she  proceeded  to  mouth 
out  the  well-known  passage,  in  a  forced,  unnatural  strain,  which  if 
anything  could  destroy  its  beauty,  would  effectually  have  done  so. 
It  is  a  curious  thing,  that  people  rarely  trust  poetry  to  its  own 
music,  by  uttering  it  in  a  natural  tone,  but  must  distort  it  into 
meaningless  rant  and  bellow,  on  the  plea  of  giving  it  due  effect. 

The  scientific  young  lady  entered  upon  a  discussion  of  the 
motion  of  the  terrestrial  globe,  which  went  to  prove  that  the  Flo- 
rentine astronomer,  so  far  from  deserving  any  credit  for  his  dis- 
covery, was  all  but  a  dolt,  for  not  having  earlier  hit  upon  so  self- 
evident  a  theory. 

The  sentimental  young  lady  declared  that  she  "  perfectly  idol- 
ized that  dear  old  Galileo !  and  that  he  was  a  brave  darling  to 
speak  his  mind  in  the  very  teeth  of  the  Inquisition." 

"  But  they  brought  him  upon  his  marrow-bones,  and  made 
him  eat  his  words,  and  threatened  him  with  the  infernal  regions, 
if  he  found  out  any  more  such  bewildering  facts,"  said  Ensign 
Byng ;  "  however  this  didn't  seem  to  have  the  proper  effect  upon 
the  sturdy  old  star-gazer,  since  he  profanely  muttered,  as  he  rose 
from  his  knees, '  For  all  that,  it  moves  ! '  " 

"  In  short,  they  told  him  he'd  be  d d  if  he  insisted  it  did 

move,  and  he  said  he'd  be  d d  if  it  didn't,"  observed  young 

Maberley.  "  Upon  my  soul,  this  is  all  confounded  slow.  I'll  tell 
you  what,  I  can't  stand  it  any  longer.  I  vote,  we're  off  to  Flo 


THE    IRON   COUSIN.  167 

rence,  and  leave  this  confounded,  dull,  stupid  old  bill,  and  ita 
eonceited  old  big-wig  discoverer,  and  all  his  old  humbug  twaddle." 

"  Oh,  you  abominable  Vandal !  You  vilest  vile  of  wretches  ! ' 
screamed  the  sentimental  young  lady,  all  the  while  looking  unut- 
terable eiifourairemcnt  at  him. 

"  I  think  you'll  enjoy  Fiesole  better,  some  other  day,  when 
your  uncle  and  you  and  I  come  here  by  ourselves,  Kate,  sha'n't 
you  ?  "  said  Cecil  Lascelles,  as  he  led  his  companion  down  tho 
short  declivity,  at  the  foot  of  which  the  party  had  been  obliged 
to  leave  the  horses  and  carriages,  that  they  might  walk  up  to  the 
summit  and  brow  of  the  hill — only  to  be  reached  on  foot 

Kate  Ireton  gave  a  smiling  nod  in  return,  and  then  added  • 
:i  Vt-t  I'm  glad,  too,  that  I've  seen  it  as  I  have  done;  otherwise, 
I  could  hardly  imagine  how  the  charm  of  such  a  scene  should  be 
so  marred  by  triviality,  or  how  it  should  fail  of  inspiring  a  rath- 
er soberer  frame  of  mind — a  little  more  of  the  silence  of  respect 
and  good  feeling.  I  can  scarcely  understand  idle  chattering  in  a 
scene  like  this,  filled  as  it  is,  too,  with  such  sublime  associations  !  " 

She  stopped,  as  she  spoke,  to  gaze.  The  flood  of  warm,  gol- 
den, afternoon-light  poured  in  a  rich  stream  upon  the  grand  ex- 
tent of  valley  which  the  spot  on  which  they  stood  commanded. 
In  the  middle  distance  lay  the  green  luxuriance  of  vines,  corn- 
fields, and  orange-groves,  covering  the  plain  for  miles  with  ita  fer- 
tile, verdurous  beauty ;  studded  with  white  villas,  and  broken  into 
varied,  picturesque  compartments  of  farm,  orchard,  and  agricultu- 
ral enclosure.  In  the  farther  distance  might  be  seen,  glistening 
brightly  amid  tho  universal  sunny  effusion,  the  towers  and  domes 
of  tin-  lively  city,  "  Firenze  la  bella,"  truly  named,  rearing  their 
proud  crests  with  stately  majesty,  upon  the  brink  of  Arno,  that 
sm>U-lies  its  silver  line  away  on  either  side,  straight  across  the 
fair  valley.  In  the  extreme  distance  beyond,  lay  the  undulating, 
gently-rising  eminence,  which  skirts  and  encloses  the  scene  with 
its  f!M].ii!-]  1--<1  horizon,  forming  a  magnificent  back-ground  to  the 
picture  Kate  beheld. 

Slu-  dn-w  :i  l>re;itli  «>f  <u-eji,  full  satisfaction,  as  she  turned 
away  from  it,  ami  suffere-1  <  Y.-U  to  place  her  once  more  on  horse- 


168  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

back.  They  proceeded  for  some  time  in  complete  silence,  uutil 
some  of  the  other  equestrians  joined  them,  and  would  talk,  and 
make  them  talk. 

"  My  good  fellow,  Lascelles !  I  wish  you  would  tell  us  the 
reason  why  the  murderous  folks  in  this  land  kill  all  the  singing- 
birds?  "said  Miss  Copstantia  Smythe.  "  One  may  ride  all  day 
through  Italian  country  roads,  and  not  hear  a  thrush  or  a  linnet,  for 
love  or  money." 

"  A  partridge  or  a  pheasant  would  be  more  to  the  purpose,  if 
a  fellow  could  get  a  shot  at  one,"  said  Ensign  Byng.  "  Don't  you 
think  so,  Miss  Ireton  ?  " 

"  As  I'm  not  a  fellow,  and  never  shoot,  I'm  no  judge,"  she  re- 
plied. 

"  I  fancy,  Miss  Smythe,  the  Italian  peasantry  destroy  thrushes 
and  linnets  for  the  same  purpose  as  the  larger  birds — to  make 
game  of  them,"  said  Cecil. 

"  There's  no  fun  in  such  game,"  she  replied.  "  Surely,  there's 
not  picking  enough  upon  such  very  small  fry — or  small  roast." 

"  Yet  we  don't  disdain  larks !  Plenty  of  fun  in  them,  I  hope ! 
The  soberest  of  us  like  a  lark  now  and  then !  We're  up  to  that 
game,  at  any  rate,"  remarked  young  Maberley. 

"It's  very  certain  they  do  kill  and  eat  singing-birds  here t 
you'll  see  'em  by  dozens,  any  day,  in  every  Italian  market,"  said 
the  Ensign.  "  It's  my  opinion,  they  destroy  'em  out  of  spite,  as 
rivals,  since  Italy's  so  famous  for  human  singing-birds.  Thej 
roast  and  eat  the  nightingales,  like  ogres,  lest  they  should  outdo 
themselves,  and  get  engagements  in  London  or  Paris." 

"  But  why  are  you  so  anxious  about  the  fate  of  the  little  birds, 
Miss  Smythe,  since  you  wouldn't  hear  them  if  they  sang  ?  "  said 
Cecil 

"  Why  not,  pray  ?  "  she  replied. 

"  You'd  be  so  busy  talking,  and  telling  yourself  to  listen,  and 
calling  upon  us  to  hearken,  that  there'd  be  no  hearing  the  mag- 
pies and  parrots, — I  mean  the  thrushes  and  linnets.  Now,  just 
look  here ;  look  up,  above  your  head  !  Don't  you  see  what  a  de- 
licious scent  there  is  ?  " 


THE    IUON    COUSIN.  16S 

"  What  are  you  talking  about,  Sir  Impudence  ?  You  know  I 
put  up  with  any  liberty  from  you,  or  you  wouldn't  dare  be  so  au- 
dacious," she  said,  with  her  loud  laugh. 

"  I  know  you  are  all-forbearing,  all-forgiving,*r  he  rejoined, "  or 
I  should  not  presume ;  but " 

"  Come,  let's  hear  what  you  mean  by  looking  up  to  see  a  scent," 
she  interrupted. 

"  Why,  is  it  not  as  reasonable,  as  to  expect  me  to  view  a  pros- 
pect by  hearing  you  talk  about  it ;  or  listen  to  singing  through 
the  incessant  wagging  of  your  fair  tongue  ?  The  other  night,  at 
La  Pergola,  I  could  not  hear  one  note  of  *  Semiramide,'  because 
you  favoured  me  with  a  seat  in  your  box.  But  seriously,  did  you 
ever  smell  anything  more  delicious  than  the  perfume  of  these  pine- 
trees  ?  The  heat  of  the  sun  brings  out  the  full  aromatic  strength, 
as  we  pass  beneath." 

Miss  Smythe  was  about  to  answer,  but  Cecil  exclaimed, 
"  Hush ! " 

"  Nonsense  ! "  she  began ;  "  I've  no  notion " 

"  Be  still ;  be  quiet !  "  he  said  ;  "  don't  interrupt  me;  I  want 
to  enjoy  the  fragrance  in  peace  and  comfort ;  and  I  can't  smell  if 
you  talk." 

She  said  no  more,  but  sat  switching  the  boughs,  half  sulkily, 
whistling,  in  a  peevish,  discontented  way,  to  herself. 

They  had  all  stopped  for  a  moment  to  inhale  the  exquisite 
scent  of  the  pine-trees ;  when  Kate  Ireton  reached  up  to  gather 
one  of  the  cones,  so  handsome  in  its  warm  brown  rind  of  rugged 
regularity.  She  had  formed  her  riding-whip  into  a  round  loop, 
that  she  might  hook  down  the  pine-cone  ;  when  suddenly  the  cir- 
cle gave  way,  and  its  elasticity  caused  the  whip  to  spring  from  her 
hand.  She  saw  it  disappear  down  the  steep  descent  immediately 
on  the  other  side  of  the  turf  bank,  against  which  she  was. 

Without  another  thought,  than  eagerness  to  regain  the  lost 
wiiip,  she  urged  her  horse  over,  and  dashed  down  the  green  hollow. 
It  was  so  shrrr  and  precipitous,  that  the  sight  of  Kate's  rash 
plunge  called  forth  a  simultaneous  exclamation  of  horror  from 
those  who  witnessed  it. 
8 


170  THE  moN  cousns. 

Cecil  Lascelles  was  about  to  dash  after,  and  spurred  his  horse 
against  the  bank ;  but  in  the  moment  that  the  animal  checked  at 
the  leap,  Miss  Sinythe  laid  her  hand  on  Cecil's  arm  exclaiming  : — 
"  Don't  be  a  fool,  Lascelles !  If  that  mad,  headlong  girl  chooses 
to  break  her  neck,  why  need  you  ?  Stop,"  she  added  ;  "  if  you 
will  go  after  her — there's  a  gate,  a  few  yards  back,  that  I  noticed 
as  we  came  along,  from  which  there's  doubtless  a  way  down  into 
the  dell." 

"  True,  you're  right ;  I  shall  be  better  able  to  help  her;  you're 
right."  And  he  turned  his  horse's  head,  and  hurried  off. 

"  By  Jove !  I  never  saw  such  a  leap  !  She's  a  capital  horse- 
woman, 'faith !  Few  old  practised  hands  at  steeple-chasing  but 
would  have  shied  at  such  a  depth  as  that !  "  said  young  Maberley, 
aa  he  looked  over  into  the  wooded  chasm. 

"  And  one  can't  see  anything  of  her,"  observed  Ensign  Byng, 
who  was  peering  over  also.  "  The  place  is  so  thick  with  trees, 
and  the  ground  so  broken,  besides  dropping  so  suddenly,  that 
there's  no  making  anything  out  a  few  feet  down." 

"  What  in  the  name  of  folly  could  induce  the  girl  to  bolt  over 
in  that  slap-dash,  devil-me-care  fashion?"  said  young  Maberley. 

"  Oh,  nothing  but  because  she'd  dropped  her  riding-whip,  and 
must  needs  fly  after  it,  like  one  bewitched.  The  girl  must  be 
cracked,  I  think,"  said  Miss  Constantia,  "  to  fling  herself  down 
into  such  a  hole  as  that !  " 

"  She's  a  deuced  fine  girl,  cracked,  or  not  cracked,"  said  Ensign 
Byng;  "  and  it'd  be  a  thousand  pities  if  she  came  to  any  harm." 

"  If  she  were  to  crack  her  skull,  for  instance,"  roared  Miss 
Smythe,  "  then  she'd  be  cracked,  with  a  vengeance,  eh  ?  Take  my 
word  for  it,  Byng,  she'll  come  upon  her  feet  fast  enough ;  such 
creatures  always  do." 

Meanwhile,  Cecil  had  reached  the  gate,  and  found  that  it  open- 
ed into  a  deep  rubbly  lane,  more  like  a  water-course  than  a  road  ; 
down  which  he  managed  to  guide  his  horse  for  a  little  way ;  but 
finding  this-delayed  him,  he  dismounted,  and  fastening  his  horse 
to  a  tree,  proceeded  on  foot.  He  called  eagerly  upon  Kate's  name, 
as  he  went,  that  he  might  be  guided  to  where  she  was,  by  her 


nu:  mo*  rorsiN.  171 

voice,  if  able  to  reply ;  and  to  his  great  joy  he  heard  her  not  long 
after,  calling  in  answer,  and  in  a  cheerful  tone. 

But  when  he  saw  her,  he  soon  perceived  that  she  had  been 
more  hurt  than  she  was  willing  to  let  appear.  She  was  off  her 
imrs.' — she  owned  that  she  had  been  thrown — her  veil  was  torn, 
her  face  much  scratched  by  the  brambles  and  thorny  underwood, 
through  which  she  had  been  borne  by  her  rapid  downward  course ; 
there  was  a  cut  upon  her  temple,  and  she  was  very  pale,  although 
her  eyes  had  lost  none  of  their  brightness,  but  wore  a  certain 
look  of  satisfied,  almost  triumphant,  animation.  In  her  hand  she 
held  the  recovered  riding-whip. 

"  I  am  quite  safe — only  a  few  scratches  and  bruises — not 
hurt — not  even  frightened  ;  "  she  said  rapidly,  as  he  approached. 
"  .M  v  poor  horse  is  the  more  alarmed  of  the  two,"  she  added,  aa 
she  continued  to  pat  the  creature's  neck,  and  tried  to  soothe  it. 
"  It  is  not  so  accustomed  to  my  mode  of  riding  as  my  own 
English  White  Bess,  at  home  at  Heathcote.  If  I  had  had  her, 
she  would  have  thought  nothing  of  such  a  hillock ;  she  would 
have  known  it  was  only  her  mistress's  way." 

"  Rather  a  fearful  way  too.  is  it  not  ?  Do  you  often  take 
it  into  your  head  to  gallop  down  steeps  such  as  this  ?  "  said 
Cecil,  as  he  looked  at  the  perilous  place  she  had  ventured 
down. 

"  A  mere  slope  !  "  she  said,  laughing.  "  When  you  come  to 
Heathcote,  uncle  and  I  will  show  you  dykes  that  shall  make  tin* 
seem  a  garden  ha-ha.  But  I  am  bragging.  All  I  say  is,  \v;iit 
till  you  take  a  fox-hunting  ride  with  us  in  merry  England. 
Meantime,  help  me  to  calm  poor  trembling  Bayardo,  who  sadly 
belies  his  knightly  courser  name." 

.  After  they  had  succeeded  in  reassuring  the  scared  horse, 
Cecil  was  preparing  to  help  Kate  into  her  seat  again,  when  she 
involuntarily  winced,  as  from  sharp  and  sudden  pain. 

"  You  are  hurt,  after  all,  Kate !  "  Cecil  exclaimed,  aa  he 
lookoJ  at  her  anxiously. 

-  No,  no,"  she  said,  faintly  laughing;  "  I  have  strained  my 
nand  a  little.  1  think;  and  I  feel  it  when  I  use  it,  tliat'g  all 


172  THE    IRON    COUSIN 

Wait,  let  me  take  breath  one  moment — it  will  go  off.  Now, 
aft  me ! " 

"  I  cannot  think  why  you  should  have  hazarded  such  a 
plunge  !  "  he  said,  after  a  few  moments,  as  he  led  her  horse  on 
towards  the  spot  where  he  had  left  his  own ;  "  surely,  the  loss  of 
a  whip  was  of  no  consequence.  It  could  not  be  worth  while  to 
risk  your  life  for  such  a  trifle." 

"  Perhaps  not,"  she  replied,  "  but  I  hate  to  be  foiled ;  and 
when  I  saw  it  spin  out  of  my  hand,  my  first  impulse  was  to  get 
it  back,  at  all  risks !  You  don't  know  how  fond  I  am  of  my 
own  way,  Cecil.  I  seldom  let  a  little  prevent  my  secur- 
ing it." 

"  But  this  was  not  a  little.  It  was  really  running  a  fear- 
ful chance,  however  light  you  make  of  it,  Kate,"  he  returned. 

"  It  was  nothing  compared  to  the  great  delight  of  not  being 
conquered  ;  if  I  had  allowed  myself  to  be  deprived  by  an  acci- 
dent of  this — trifle  as  it  may  be — I  should  have  felt  vexed,  de- 
feated ;  and  it  is  not  pleasant  to  one  of  my  nature  to  feel  van- 
quished. I  have  been  so  accustomed  to  my  own  will,  that  I  can't 
do  without  it,"  she  said,  smiling. 

He  shook  his  head  as  he  returned  the  smile.  "  An  '  acci- 
dent '  might  have  '  deprived '  you  of  something  more  important 
than  a  paltry  whip — your  life,  Kate.  And  then,  with  what  face 
could  I  have  returned  to  your  uncle,  who  gave  you  into  my 
charge  ?  " 

"  Ah,  now  you  are  serious,  Cecil.  The  thought  of  him,  and 
what  he  would  have  felt,  makes  me  grave,  indeed."  She  paused 
then  resumed :  "  Cecil,  let  us  take  immediate  leave  of  your 
friends,  and  return  home  with  best  speed-  to  Valletta;  it  will 
prevent  my  uncle  from  becoming  anxious,  should  he  have  already 
returned." 

"  By  all  means,"  answered  Cecil,  as  they  hastened  on  at  a 
quicker  pace  to  rejoin  those  who  were  awaiting  them  above. 

In  few  words,  Kate's  desire  to  repair  home  without  delay 
was  explained  by  Cecil ;  and  after  polite  enquiries  on  the  part  of 
the  others,  and  assurances  on  hers  that  she  .was  unhurt,  with 


THE   IRON    COUSIN.  173 

eourteous  acknowledgment  of  the  pleasant  day's  excursion  in 
their  company,  she  took  leave.  As  they  proceeded,  Cecil  per- 
ceived that  Kate,  in  spite  of  her  endeavour  to  carry  all  off 
bravely,  was  in  reality  suffering  much.  The  pallor  of  her  face 
looked  ghastly  against  the  crimson  drops  which  oozed  from  the 
hurt  upon  her  temple ;  and  her  brow  had  that  peculiar  contrac- 
tion which  betrays  suppressed  bodily  pain.  While  she  essayed 
still  to  talk  on,  she  every  now  and  then  involuntarily  dropped 
into  silence  ;  and  the  colourless  lips  would  occasionally  give  ar 
irrepressible  quiver. 

Cecil  waited  until  they  reached  the  diverging  road,  where 
they  were  to  turn  off  towards  Valletta;  and  then,  seeing  her 
prepare  to  follow  it,  he  begged  that  she  would  go  round  by 
Florence,  that  they  might  procure  a  carriage  to  convey  her  home, 
as  he  was  sure  the  pull  of  the  rein  upon  her  sprained  wrist  hurt 
her  more  than  she  would  allow. 

••No,  no,"  she  said;  "it  will  occupy  more  time;  and  be- 
sides, the  sight  of  the  carriage  would  only  alarm  uncle,  and 
make  him  fancy  there  was  something  the  matter.  No,  no;  let 
us  take  the  way  across  the  valley;  it  is  much  nearer.  I  long  to 
be  home." 

And  now.  after  two  or  three  resumed  attempts  to  maintain 
conversation,  she  allowed  herself  to  lapse  into  welcome  speech- 
lessness,  which  her  companion  took  care  not  to  interrupt.  At 
length,  as  they  approached  the  Arno,  they  beheld  the  'Squire 
himself,  riding  towards  them,  along  the  river-side  road. 

lie  had  been  to  Valletta,  after  seeing  his  friend  off,  and  not 
finding  Kate  and  Cecil  returned,  had  come  back  to  meet  them. 
The  moment  he  was  near  enough  to  gain  a  sight  of  Kate's 
white  face,  speckled  and  streaked  with  the  tokens  of  her  fall,  the 
good  'Squire  uttered  a  broken  exclamation,  and  hurried  to  her 
side. 

••  .Mt-reiful  Heaven  1  my  dear  child — ray  dear  girl — what  haa 
Lap]x •!.. •<!  ':  Kate,  my  Kate,  speak  to  : 

strove  her  lust  to  answer  strongly,  laughingly:  "No- 
thing!  nothing  at  all,  dear  uncle  I      A   -<;ui<-h   IT  two.      Italian 


174  THE   IKON    COUSIN. 

Bayardo  is  not  English  Bess,  that's  all !  He  threw  me ;  \vhich 
royal  Bess — fair  Bess — my  own  beautiful  White  Bess — tho 
Bess  of  Besses,  would  never  have  done  !  But  we  must  forgive 
him !  " 

"  I  cannot,  I  cannot  forgive  myself,  for  trusting  you  upon 
him  ;  a  strange  horse  ;  for  trusting  you  out  of  my  sight !  How 
was  it  ?  How  did  it  come  about  ?  Tell  me  how  it  was,  Cecil, 

Kate  is  such  a  horsewoman,  that  I  cannot  understand "  He 

broke  off  eagerly. 

"  The  fact  is,  Kate  ventured  a  leap  such  as  no  one  but  her 
own  fearless  self  would  have  dreamed  of,"  said  Cecil  Lascelles. 
"  Her  whip  slipped  from  her  hand,  and  she  must  needs  regain  it 
at  all  risks.  It  sprang  down  a  green  rift,  some  twenty  feet  in 
dspth  ;  and  though  the  ground  shelved  more  like  a  precipice  than 
a  bank,  our  young  Amazon  dashed  over,  at  full  tilt,  as  if  perform- 
ing a  feat  for  the  honour  of  English  horse-riding." 

But  the  light  tone  which  Cecil  took,  in  order  to  relieve  the 
good  'Squire's  fears,  failed  to  calm  him.  Alarmed,  agitated, 
angry  with  himself  for  allowing  her  to  leave  him,  vaguely  vexed 
with  Cecil  for  having  suffered  this  to  occur,  fretted  with  Kate, 
and  fretting  for  her,  he  vented  his  mingled  emotion  upon  the 
cause  of  her  accident ;  and  exclaiming — "  What,  for  an  idle  toy 
such  as  this,  you  could  run  the  chance  of  killing  yourself,  and 
breaking  my  heart,  child  ?  I  shall  never  bear  the  sight  of  it 
again !  "  he  snatched  the  whip  from  her  hand,  and  flung  it  into 
the  river. 

A  vivid  colour  flushed  up  into  Kate's  face  for  one  instant, 
and  the  next  as  suddenly  receding,  left  it  even  whiter  than  be- 
fore, Then  she  swerved  feebly  in  her  saddle ;  and  her  uncle  had 
only  time  to  catch  her  in  his  arras,  or  she  would  have  fallen 
from  her  horse. 

"  My  darling  !  my  Kate  !  For  God's  sake,  Cecil,  help  me 
to  support  her  ;  she  is  hurt,  she  is  wounded.  My  heart  misgave 
me  when  I  saw  the  blood  upon  her  face ;  she  has  received  some 
injury,  though  she  tried  to  conceal  it  from  us.  My  own  brave 
heart !  my  dear  child!  Kate  !  dear,  dear  Kate  !  " 


THE   1IION    COUSIN.  173 

"  I  am  well — better,  dear  uncle,"  Kate  forced  herself  to  ar- 
ticuluto ;  "  let  me  lean  upon  you  quietly,  and  I  shall  be  able  tc 
reach  home." 

As  the  faint  whisper  reached  her  uncle's  ear,  he  pressed  her 
gratefully  to  him,  and  bade  her  exert  herself  to  speak  no  more, 
and  then  he  and  Cecil  Lascellcs,  between  them,  guided  her  horsp 
slowly  onward  to  Valletta. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

"  AND  now,  dear  uncle,  having  '  washed  this  filthy  witness  '  from 
my  face,  as  the  tragedy  queen  says,  see  how  well  and  whole  I 
am  !  "  said  Kate,  hastening  down  to  rejoin  him,  as  soon  as  Mrs. 
Lindon  had  bathed  her  temple,  looked  to  her  sprained  and 
swollen  hand,  and  given  her  some  restoratives,  which  revived, 
and  lent  her  strength  and  spirit  to  appear  quite  recovered.  li  Gen- 
erally, it  is  we  poor  women  who  arc  supposed  to  shrink  and  turn 
pale  at  sight  of  a  little  blood ;  but  here's  one  of  the  manly  lords 
of  the  Creation,  losing  his  wits  with  fright;  while  Mrs.  Lindon, 
like  a  heroine  of  old,  plays  the  leech  and  the  comforter." 

"  I'm  a  coward,  I  own,  Kate,  where  a  certain  saucy  baggage 
is  concerned !  "  replied  her  uncle,  greatly  inspirited  at  seeing  her 
able  to  make  her  appearance  in  the  sitting-room,  instead  of  being 
compelled  to  remain  up-stairs  for  the  night,  and  leave  him  a  prey 
to  all  sorts  of  suspense,  and  wild,  exaggerated  fears ;  "  I  shall 
never  be  anything  else  than  a  simpleton  about  you,  I  believe  ; 
nay,  so  far  from  becoming  cured,  here  have  I  been  inwardly 
swearing  at  myself,  for  giving  you  out  of  my  own  charge,  and  all 
but  openly  abusing  Cecil,  for  taking  it  upon  himself." 

"  He  deserves  thanks  instead  of  blame,  for  the  manner  in 
which  he  fulfilled  it,"  she  replied  ;  "  and  you  are  immediately 
not  only  to  thank  him,  l.ui  IK  1'ur^ivr  im-.  forgetting  into  a  Bcrupa 
in  spite  of  his  care.  He  did  bis  best  to  rule  mu  properly  for  my 


176  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

misbehaviour ;  and  I  did  mine  to  show  him  I  always  did  as  1 
chose,  and  that  therefore  he  was  not  answerable  for  any  harm  1 
came  to.  We  both  acted  in  character  ;  he  as  my  deputed  guar- 
dian, I  as  my  wilful  self.  Therefore,  I  expect  you'll  give  us 
each  your  hearty  commendations;  especially  now  that  you  see 
our  acts  have  had  no  fatal  consequence." 

"  Give  me  a  kiss,  sauce-box,  and  have  your  own  way,"  said 
the  'Squire.  "  You  know  that  is  how  we  always  end." 

"  Thank  you,  Kate,  for  contriving  to  look  so  well,  and  for 
obtaining  my  exculpation  besides  your  own ;  by  showing  how,  in 
the  words  of  your  tragedy  queen,  '  a  little  water  clears  us  of  this 
deed,'  "  said  Cecil.  "  If  being  thrown  from  your  horse  is  to 
have  the  effect  of  making  you  look  only  brighter  and  fresher  than 
before,  we  must  get  you  to  ride  Bayardo  daily,  till  you  bring  him 
into  too  good  training  to  be  worth  anything." 

"  She  shall  never  mount  the  beast  again  !  "  exclaimed  the 
'Squire,  passionately. 

"  Nay,  nay,  Bayardo  must  not  be  left  out  of  the  general  par- 
don," said  Kate.  "  I  mean  to  give  you  one  more  kiss,  uncle, 
which  is  to  seal  his  forgiveness  too.  Promise,  promise  !  "  she 
said,  playfully  suspending  the  caress,  as  she  bent  over  him,  and 
made  him  speak  the  words  she  desired. 

"You  do  with  me  as  you  will,  Kate,"  said  the  placable 
'Squire  ;  "  but  I  had  almost  vowed  you  should  never  ride  again, 
until  you  could  have  your  own  White  Bess." 

"  Almost  vowed,  is  not  quite  !  Beware  how  you  ever  vow 
anything  without  asking  my  leave,  uncle,  lest  I  make  you  for- 
sworn, if  it  should  chance  to  be  what  I  disapprove,"  smiled  she. 

"  And  now,  Kate,"  said  Mrs.  Lindon's  quiet  voice,  "  having 
shown  yourself,  and  proved  that  you  are  neither  among  the  '  re- 
turned killed,'  nor  even  the  '  maimed  and  wounded,' — which  you 
insisted  would  be  the  impression  if  I  did  not  suffer  y*m  to  come 
down  and  convince  your  uncle's  own  eyes, — I  shall  exercise  my 
authority  of  leech  and  head-nurse,  by  ordering  you  at  once  off  to 
bed." 

'  Ay,  that  reminds  me  of  nights  of  yore   and  my  old  childish 


TILE    IRON    COUSIN.  177 

detestation  of  bed-time,  so  hateful  a  break-up  of  pleasant  evening 
Iiours  !  "  laughed  Kate. 

But  the  tone  of  the  laugh,  and  that  peculiar  brilliancy  of  the 
eye,  and  glow  of  .the  cheek, — which  had  recovered  from  its  white 
hue  only  by  one  bright  spot, — taught  Mrs.  Lindon  to  be  firm  for 
once.  "  I  am  going,  however,  to  be  more  peremptory  than — to 
my  shame  be  it  owned — I  used,  in  those  old  governess  times  of 
yore.  I  am  now  imperative,  and  mean  to  be  obeyed,"  she  said, 
with  smiling  seriousness. 

"  Ah,  you  say  I  rule  you,  uncle  !  But  you  see  I'm  ruled  in 
my  turn ;  like  many  a  tyrant,  submitting  to  be  swayed  in  secret 
by  a  yet  stricter  tyranny  than  my  own.  Louis  the  Eleventh  to 
his  people,  snubbed  in  private  by  his  counsellor  and  barber-sur- 
geon, Olivier  le  Dain,  arc  represented  to  the  life  by  you,  and  me, 
;ni(l  .Mrs.  Lindon.  You  are  the  poor  oppressed  people,  uncle ; 
I'm  King  Louis,  of  estimable  memory  ;  and  Mrs.  Lindon  is  the 
precise  impersonation  of  the  crafty  leech  and  back-stairs  despot." 

"  I'll  tell  you  what,  Cecil,  my  boy,"  said  the  'Squire,  after 
Kate  and  Mrs.  Lindon  had  left  the  room  some  time,  during 
which  he  had  been  pacing  up  and  down  thoughtfully,  while  Cecil 
sat  at  the  table,  engaged  with  a  book,  seeing  his  companion  in- 
clined to  be  silent ;  u  I'll  tell  you  what  you  must  do  for  inc,  to 
relieve  my  conscience,  which  has  been  taking  mo  to  task  this  last 
half-hour,  for  my  fit  of  bad  temper.  I  flung  away  poor  Kate's 
whip  iu  a  passion,  and  charged  you  in  my  heart  with  want  of 
pro], i  r  care  of  her,  and  committed  fifty  unreasonable  vagaries  in 
my  vexation  and  alarm  ;  when  all  along  it  was  my  own  neglect, 
and  nothing  else,  that  was  to  blame.  I  have  never  lost  sight  of 
her  i'nr  a  .single  day  together,  Cecil,  since  first  I  held  her  in  my 
amis,  a  new-born,  orphaned  baby  ;  and  I  never  will  again,  if  it 
lleavi-n,  until  I  am  called  from  earth  and  from  her  at 
oner.  She  was  unwilling  herself,  bless  her  !  to  leave  me  thin 
morning  ;  and  I  am  fitly  punished  for  allowing  her  to  go  without 
me.  It  shall  not  happen  so  again.  But  it  was  not  this  I  had  io 
ceil.  What  1  want  you  to  do  for  me,  my  dear  boy, — to 
?nable  me  t»  make  reparation  fur  my  hastiness  to  Kate,  and  t« 


178  THE    inON    COUSIN. 

show  me  that  you  forgive  me  for  my  testiness  toward  you, — ia 
to  go  into  town  the  first  thing  to-morrow,  and  choose  the  vcr^ 
handsomest  riding-whip  you  can  find  for  me,  to  give  Kate,  in  lieu 
of  the  one  I  so  pettishly  flung  away,  poor  child  !  " 

"  My  dear  'Squire,  you  could  not  give  me  a  pleasanter  coin- 
mission,"  said  Cecil.  "  It  is  only  your  own  tender  conscience 
that  could  make  you  accuse  yuurself,  for  a  moment,  of  any  other 
treatment  than  that  which  you  have  always  shown  me — the  kind- 
est ;  as  it  is  your  own  generosity  which  prompts  you  to  this  mode 
of  letting  me  share  your  pleasure  in  Kate's  safety,  by  deputing 
me  to  be  purchaser  of  the  present  that  is  to  congratulate  her. 
Depend  on  me,  my  dear  sir ;  it  shall  be  the  most  tasteful  one 
that  Florence  can  produce." 

"  Exactly,  my  boy ;  it  is  because  I  have  great  confidence  ill 
your  good  taste,  that  I  trust  you  to  get  it  for  me,"  said  the 
'Squire.  "  Remember."  added  he,  as  he  placed  his  purse  in  the 
young  man's  hand,  u  I  rely  upon  you,  that  it  shall  do  her  old 
uncle  credit,  and  please  my  Kate." 

The  next  morning  Cecil  Lascelles  was  on  horseback,  and 
away  from  Valletta  betimes,  that  he  might  return  before  Kate 
should  make  her  appearance  below.  He  had  heard  Mrs.  Lindon 
say  that  she  should  insist  upon  her  patient's  breakfasting  in  her 
own  room  ;  and  thus  he  hoped  to  be  able  to  bring  back  tho 
'Squire's  gift,  ready  for  him  to  present  to  his  niece  the  first  thing, 
when  they  all  met. 

The  good  'Squire  himself  was  like  a  child  in  his  pleased  im- 
patience. He  was  glad  that  Mrs.  Lindon  had  issued  her  fiat 
for  Kate's  remaining  up-stairs  uutil  after  the  morning  meal 
(when  onco  he  had  ascertained  that  her  night's  rest  had  done 
much  to  restore  her),  lest  he  should  be  tempted  to  let  his  secret 
escape  him,  and  tell  her  the  surprise  he  was  preparing  for  her. 
Then  he  fidgeted  about  the  vineyard  and  garden  ;  then  strolled 
into  the  stable ;  then  returned  to  the  breakfast-parlour,  and 
drummed  upon  the  pane  of  the  window  that  looked  towards  the 
Florence  road.  At  last,  when  he  had  just  worked  himself  up 
•jito  the  determination  of  mounting  his  horse,  and  going  out  to 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  179 

meet  Cecil,  he  saw  him  approach,  at  a  pace  that  none  but  an  En- 
glishman,— or  an  ostrich, — would  think  of  galloping  at,  in  such  a 
sun-heat  as  then  prevailed. 

The  success  of  the  exhibition  was  soon  told  ;  and  the  long, 
blender  packet  held  up  in  triumphant  evidence.  But  the  'Squire 
would  not  have  it  opened,  until  Kate  should  come  down. 

"  She  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  unfastening  it  herself,  and  of 
the  first  sight,"  said  the  'Squire.  "  I  don't  want  to  examine  it 
before  she  sees  it.  I'm  quite  satisfied  with  your  choice,  Cecil, 
my  boy.  I  know  you'd  take  care  it  was  the  best  thing  of  the 
kind  that  could  be  procured;  and  Florence  is  just  the  place  for 
these  tasteful  knick-knackeries." 

"  I  found  abundance  to  select  from,  where  I  went,  sir,"  re- 
olied  Cecil ;  who,  seeing  the  good  'Squire's  state  of  anxiety  that 
Kate  should  appear,  strove  to  amuse  his  attention  by  rattling  on 
till  then;  "  the  only  difficulty  was,  to  decide  upon  one  among  so 
many,  each  temptingly  beautiful  in  their  several  styles.  I  had 
half  fixed  upon  one  that  took  my  fancy,  from  its  richness  of 
colour,  and  finished  Florentine  workmanship, — the  top  beiug  of 
1  pietra  dura,'  mounted  in  gold.  But  just  as  I  had  nearly  made 
up  my  mind,  a  gentleman  lounged  into  the  place.  I  saw  at  once 
In:  was  an  Englishman;  there  was  no  mistaking  the  genuine 
Britannia  metal — an  amalgam  of  pride  and  shyness,  with  its  hall- 
mark of  cold,  haughty,  supercilious  distance,  yet  restraint, — that 
air  which  stamps  us  all,  more  or  less,  when  travelling  abroad.  I 
say  '  us,'  you  know,  'Squire,  considering  myself,  by  right  of  pa- 
rentage, one  of  the  race  whom  wo  all  allow  ourselves  to  havo  a 
Him:  at,  and  all  are  proud  to  claim  kindred  with.  Well,  what 
should  my  gentleman  do,  but  pounce  upon  the  very  riding-whip  I 
had  half  resolved  to  take.  The  shopman  told  him  so;  upon 
which  he  only  honoured  him  with  a  long,  silent  stare,  and  then 
turned  round,  and  conferred  upon  mo  just  such  another.  I  could 
not  holp  laughing ;  but  explained  to  him,  that  if  he  had  any  par- 
ticular desire  for  that  whip,  I  would  cede  it  to  him,  as  I  \. 
fact,  divided  lu-twcrn  it  and  one  delicately  hraih-d  with  ivory, 
carvi-d  at'trr  a  -l-'-ign  of  Cellini's,  which  1  almost  thought  tho 


180  THE    IRON- COUSIN. 

more  elegant  of  the  two.  The  Englishman  heard  me  out,  witl 
his  eyes  glassily  fixed  upon  my  face  all  the  while  I  spoke,  and 
then  when  I  had  finished,  turned  round  to  the  shopman,  took  out 
his  purse,  told  out  upon  the  counter  the  sum  which  had  been 
named  as  the  price  of  the  whip  he  admired,  deliberately  drew  the 
rings  of  his  purse  to  again,  put  it  into  his  pocket,  took  up  the 
riding-whip,  and  with  a  slight  bow  to  me,  slowly  walked  out  of 
the  shop." 

"  What,  without  a  word  ?  "  laughed  the  'Squire. 

"  From  beginning  to  end,"  said  Cecil.  "  The  shopman  looked 
at  me,  with  his  Italian  expressive  twinkle  of  the  eye,  as  he  said, 
1  You  might  take  the  signor  for  a  dumb  man,  but  he's  only  an 
Inglese.  That's  their  way.  They  avoid  words,  as  they  would 
scalding  polenta.'  Well,  I  then  concluded  upon  the  ivory-head- 
ed whip  ;  not  altogether  sorry  that  I  was  constrained  to  make 
it  my  choice,  since  I've  a  notion  that  Kate  will  prefer  its 
chaste  beauty,  its  skill  and  taste  of  design,  to  the  more  showy 
richness  of  the  other." 

Kate's  admiration  of  the  whip,  when  she  saw  it.  fully  warrant- 
ed Cecil's  idea ;  while  her  delight  in  receiving  her  uncle's  pre- 
sent, even  fulfilled  his  gleeful  anticipation  of  the  pleasure  it 
would  afford  her. 

She  looked  her  thanks  ;  she  looked  in  his  face  with  glistening 
eyes,  through  which  spoke  a  yet  intenser  feeling  than  pleasure — 
deep,  heartfelt  gratitude  for  the  love,  the  strong,  ceaseless  affec 
tion,  the  ever-vigilant  desire  and  care  to  promote  her  happiness, 
of  which  this  gift  was  but  the  type.  At  once  to  conceal  and  in 
dulge  her  emotion,  she  hurried  away,  saying  she  should  put  her 
present  carefully  by,  and  then  return  and  spend  the  morning,  as 
they  had  agreed,  quietly  together.  She  ran  up  into  her  own 
room,  and  when  there,  pressed  her  uncle's  gift  lovingly  to  her 
bosom,  and  stood  quite  still,  thinking  over  all  he  was  to  her. 
Upon  her  lips  sat  a  tender  smile,  while  her  eyes  were  yet  full  of 
the  tears  which  the  sense  pf  his  kindness  had  brought  into  them. 
As  she  stood  thus,  pondering,  the  hand  which  held  her  new 
iding-whip  gradually  sank  down  by  her  side,  and  her  eyes  were 


THE    IRON    COt  181 

softly  raised  towards  one  of  the  windows,  from  which,  through 
Borae  trees,  there  was  a  glimpse  of  the  river  Arno,  shining  and 
sparkling  in  the  sun's  dazzling  beams.  Upon  this  object  her 
^uze  remained  unconsciously  fixed,  and  she  continued  lost  in 
thought. 

Unhecdful  of  the  lapse  of  time,  she  was  only  roused  by  hear* 
iiiir  Mrs.  Lindon  coming  to  seek  her.  At  the  sound  of  the  ap- 
proaching  step  Kate  started,  hastily  dried  her  eyes,  put  up  the 
whip,  and  went  out  to  meet  and  accompany  Mrs.  Lindon  down 
Btaire. 

"  Here  is  this  tyrannical  Olivier  le  Dain  at  her  barbarous  work 
still !  Tying  up  my  limbs,  amputating  my  liberty,  cutting  off  my 
comforts  and  enjoyments,"  said  Kate,  as  she  returned  to  the  sit- 
ting-room with  her  hand  in  a  sling,  which  Mrs.  Lindon  had  per- 
suaded her  to  wear.  "  She  prohibits  drawing,  and  dooms  me  to 
sit  still  aud  enjoy  myself,  in  this  darkened,  shady  apartment,  until 
the  cool  of  the  evening,  when  we  are  to  drive  out  towards  Val- 
lombrosa.  Did  you  ever  hear  of  such  rigorous  treatment  ?  I've 
;i  irreat  mind  to  rebel,  as  I  used,  when  I  was  her  docile  pupil. 
Then,  I  made  her  yield  to  my  whims;  now,  I  give  way  to  hers; 
and  a  sad  life  she  leads  me,  in  revenge  for  that  which  I  once  led 
her,  T  fear.'' 

Mrs.  Lindon  shook  her  head,  and  smiled;  while  Cecil  drew 
the  couch  forward  for  Kate,  near  to  her  uncle's  arm-chair,  by  the 
•-s-table;  \S<|uire  Heathcote's  modest  dread  that  'he  hadn't 
head  enough  for  the  game,'  baring  been  overruled  by  Cecil's  beg- 
ging to  be  allowed  to  teach  him,  as  a  pleasant  mode  of  passing 
tin  ir  time  together,  when  they  should  have  nothing  better  to  do. 

"  This  is  really  most  luxurious,  and  very  delicious,  consider- 
in^  that  it'.s  a  prescription  of  Olivier  le  Dain's, — a  pill  that  one's 
obliged  to  swallow,"  said  Kate,  settling  herself  cosily  in  her  nook, 
close  at  her  uncle's  elbow.  "  Cecil,  before  you  return  to  your 
seat,  be  so  good  as  to  raise  the  lower  sun-blind,  that  we  may  have 
ju.-t  a  j.erj.  <.f  the  scene  that  I  hate  should  be  shut  out  entirely— 
it  i>  BO  j- 

She  lay  '.ooking  nut  UJH.M   the   lovely   Italian   lainlseajn-,   AH  if 


182  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

she  would  enamel  it  upon  her  memory,  in  all  its  glow  of 
burning  colour. 

There  was  a  hush  in  the  closely-screened  room,  that  contrast- 
ed harmoniously  with  the  noontide  fervour  outside,  falling  tran- 
quilly and  most  gratefully  upon  the  spirits  of  Kate  Ireton.  Tho 
silent  chess-players ;  Mrs.  Lindon  quietly  sewing ;  she  herself  ab- 
sorbed in  gazing. 

"  Kate  looks  as  though  she  could  be  content  to  live  in  Italy 
for  ever,"  said  Mrs.  Lindon's  mild  voice,  at  length, 

"  God  forbid !  "  ejaculated  the  'Squire.  Then,  recollecting 
himself,  he  added,  "  that  is, — I  mean,  of  course, — no  offence  to 
your  favourite  Italy,  Mrs.  Lindon.  And,  of  course,  so  long  as 
Kate's  content,  I  am, — we  all  are,  of  course." 

In  spite  of  himself,  the  'Squire  ended  with  a  little  sigh.  But 
he  bent  his  eyes  on  the  chess-board,  returned  to  his  game,  and  to 
the  consideration  of  his  next  move. 

The  sigh  did  not  escape  Kate's  ear.  That,  and  his  involun- 
tary exclamation,  delivered  in  the  energy  of  his  first  feeling,  open- 
ed her  eyes  to  a  secret.  She  saw  that  to  please  her,  he  tarried 
abroad ;  whilst,  in  fact,  his  heart  was  at  home — at  his  own  coun- 
try hall,  at  his  own  favourite  Heathcote — among  all  his  old  asso- 
ciates, and  familiar  pursuits.  She  wondered  at  her  own  blindness. 
She  reproached  herself  with  thoughtlessness — selfishness.  That 
evening,  as  they  drove  home  by  starlight,  she  said,  "  Uncle,  I 
thank  you  for  my  long,  delightful,  Italian  holiday.  When  shall 
we  return  to  England  ?  " 

"  Whenever  you  please,  darling,"  said  her  uncle,  with  a  glad 
promptitude,  which  told  Kate  how  truly  she  had  divined  his  real 
feelings. 

"  Then  next  Monday,  uncle,  if  you  think  fit,  we  will  set 
forth." 

And  thus  it  was  settled. 

Cecil  Lascelles  accompanied  them  as  far  on  their  journey  north- 
wards as  Genoa.  There  the  friends  parted  company;  he  proceed- 
ing to  Milan,  the  'Squire  and  Kate  to  Nice,  on  their  road  home, 
with  the  mutual  understanding  that  they  were  all  to  meet  again 
that  summer  at  Heathcote. 


TILE    IKON    COUSIN.  183 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

UNCLK  and  niece  were  once  more  at  Heathcote  Hall.  The  'Squire 
sat  at  his  own  hearth ;  his  legs  luxuriously  stretched  forth  upon  a 
thick,  soft  rug ;  his  person  basking  in  the  full  warmth  of  a  blaz- 
ing coal  fire,  that,  sparkling  and  lambent,  cast  its  cheerful,  ruddy 
glow  upon  the  bright  fire-irons  and  polished  steel  fender,  giving 
two-fold  heat  and  brilliancy,  thus  mirrored  and  reflected. 

It  was  an  evening  of  the  season  called  spring — in  England  so 
called  as  elsewhere.  That  is  to  say,  the  month  was  May.  The 
evening  was  one  of  those,  that  seem  .as  if  winter  had  forgotten 
something,  and  had  come  back  to  look  for  it:  in  the  process,  freez- 
ing everybody  into  blankness  and  trembling,  with  the  severe 
glance  of  his  hard, cold,  cruel  eye;  nipping  all  into  frost  and  bit- 
ter restraint,  by  his  icy  breath,  and  sharp,  rude  touch.  It  was 
one  of  those  evenings,  raw,  and  chill,  and  piercing;  with  the  sleet 
of  February,  the  winds  of  March,  the  rains  of  April,  making  them- 
i-elvcs  felt  in  the  air  of  early  May.  It  neither  snowed,  blew,  nor 
mined,  actually;  and  yet  there  was  an  effect  in  the  atmosphere, 
:i*  of  all  three  visitations. 

Kate  Ireton  sat  at  the  window;  she  had  been  loitering  at  one 
or  other  of  the  windows  all  day,  in  a  kind  of  listless  restlessness, 
us  i!  she  could  not  settle  to  anything,  and  as  if  she  expected  some- 
thing that  would  not  let  her  settle,  in  spite  of  her  wish  to  do  so, 
looking  out  into  the  park,  and  watching  the  trees  of  the  avonm- ; 
noting  how  their  budding  leaves  seemed  chidden,  afraid  to  conn 
forth  ;  and  how  their  half-naked  branches  seemed  to  shiver  in  the 
keen  air;  and  how  watery  and  bleared  the  sky  appeared,  with  it- 
thin,  grev,  ragged  clouds,  scattered  in  disorder  athwart  its  drear; 
expanse. 

"  This  is  comfort,  indeed  !  True,  cheerful,  thorough,  genuine 
Knirli^h  comfort!"  exclaimed  the  'S-juire,  as  ho  put  down  the 
newspaper  to  ^:i7.«>  into  th<-  fin-:  th«-  twilight  having  deepened  too 
much  to  admit  of  hi  -  r 


184  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

Her  uncle's  words  sounded  to  Kate  like  irony ;  butshegfanced 
towards  him,  and  understood  how  it  was. 

"  Dear  old  England  I  dear  old  Heathcote!  the  true  place  for 
comfort  and  happiness,  after  all !  I  confess  I'm  a  thorough  Eng- 
lishman hi  loving  my  home,  and  thinking  there's  no  place  like  it. 
An't  you  glad  we're  come  home,  Kate  ?  " 

"  Most  glad,"  she  replied,  with  so  sincerely  earnest  a  tone  as 
to  satisfy  even  his  ear ;  for  she  was  looking  at  him  in  his  full  con- 
tent, and  feeling  how  well  that  compensated. 

"  It's  such  a  comfort  to  be  able  to  haye  a  fire,  however  late  the 
season,  without  being  thought  a  madman  for  ordering  one,"  con- 
tinued the  'Squire,  leaning  forward,  and  gently  toasting  the  palms 
of  his  hands. 

Kate's  thought  in  reply  was,  "  Ay,  in  a  climate  where  one  is 
needed ; "  but  she  kept  it  to  herself,  and  looked  musingly  out  into 
the  dim,  shrouded  avenue  again. 

Presently  she  saw  somewhat  there,  gradually  shaping  itself 
into  the  form  of  an  advancing  figure.  She  started  up,  then  sat 
down  again  in  the  window-seat,  and  tried  to  master  an  odd 
choking  sensation  that  came  into  her  throat,  amidst  the  thick 
beating  of  her  heart.  Then  she  heard  her  uncle's  voice  saying, 
through  a  sort  of  cloud  that  seemed  to  muffle  her  ears,  "  Come 
here,  Kate,  and  try  if  you  can  make  out  the  same  thing  that  I  do 
in  the  red-hot  coal.  1  can  exactly  fancy  I  see  the  leaning  towei 
at  Pisa,  as  we  saw  it  clear  against  the  bright  blue  sky  that 
morning.  Do  you  remember  ?  " 

She  moved  towards  his  easy-chair,  and  knelt  down  upon 
a  low  hassock  beside  it,  leaning  against  the  arm,  and  was  busily 
engaged  trying  to  see,  precisely  in  the  midst  of  the  fire,  the 
shapes  her  uncle  was  describing,  when  the  door  opened,  and  Fur- 
nor  Worthington  came  into  the  room. 

He  hurried  towards  them :  "  Dear  'Squire  !  Dear  Kate  ! 
Jear,  dear  friends  1  "  he  said,  in  his  deep,  full  tones,  as  he 
grasped  a  hand  of  each,  and  held  them  locked  in  his. 

The  meeting  was  perfectly  English  ;  there  were  few  words 
uttered  on  either  side  ;  but  there  was  that  silent,  earnest  emo- 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  185 

tion,  visible  in  all  three  faces,  BO  well  understood  by  those  whc 
tstecm  each  other,  to  speak  all  that  need  be  said. 

Tlic  'Squire,  in  his  cordial,  good-hearted  way,  was  least  una- 
ble to  express  his  joy ;  but  even  his  usual  flow  of  words  when 
pleased,  failed  him  now,  and  he  was  contented  to  shake  Former's 
hand  over  and  over,  as  he  repeated  his  one  sentence :  "  My  deal 
boy  !  my  dear  Fermor !  I  am  glad  to  see  you  ! — I  am  glad  tc 
see  you  !  " 

Kate  spoke  no  syllable ;  but  she  left  her  hand  in  the  Iron 
Cousin's  grasp,  and  forgot  to  say  anything  about  its  vice-like  pinch. 

"  I  would  not  let  Robert  announce  me,"  said  Fermor,  after 
they  had  re-covered  from  the  first  pause  of  meeting;  "  I  knew  I 
might  come  quietly  in,  and  find  you  here  together,  and  take  my 
place  between  you,  just  as  I  used  to  be  allowed  to  do  in  old 
times.  And  now  that  I  am  here,  it  seems,  indeed,  but  yester- 
day, although  so  many  weary  months  have  passed  since  then  !  " 

He  had  taken  a  seat  by  the  'Squire's  side,  Kate  retaining  her 
cushioned  one  on  the  rug,  merely  moving  a  little  to  make  room 
for  him  ;  and  while  the 'Squire  gently  spoke  of  the  loss  Fermor 
had  sustained,  and  affectionately  consoled  him  with  recalling  how 
unselfishly  and  thoroughly  he  had  performed  his  filial  duty,  Kate 
bent  her  eyes  upon  the  fire,  their  expression  betokening  the  sympa- 
thy she  felt. 

A  -  Fermor  listened  to  those  kindly  words,  and  looked  upon 
the  silent,  but  not  unspeaking  face  before  him,  he  thought  he 
had  never  seen  Kate  look  so  beautiful,  as  now  that  her  counte- 
nance was  touched  with  a  soft,  sweet  sadness  ;  forgetting  how  of- 
ten he  had  thought  the  same,  when  it  was  lighted  up  with  anima- 
tion, and  sparkling  with  arch  vivacity. 

But  Kate  had,  in  fact,  become  handsomer.  Her  lineaments 
had  acquired  that  fini>hed  proportion,  that  softness  and  refine- 
ment of  outline,  which  the  features  of  early  youth  and  girlhood 
t-ometimes  lack,  during  their  growth  to  fiiui  perfection.  Her  com- 
plexion had  attained  a  delicacy  and  puri*y,  which  detracted  nothing 
from  it-  brilliancy  and  bloom.  Her  figure  had  gained  in  height,  and 
dignity  of  carriage,  and  fully-moulded  shapeliness,  without  losing 


(86  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

its  grace  of  ease,  freedom  of  movement,  and  slender  lightness 
Her  look  had  still  its  clear,  transparent  candour,  with  an  added 
finer  intelligence,  and  higher  apprehension. 

As  the  beautiful  face  continued  its  thoughtful  gaze  into  the 
red  embers,  Fermor  had  full  opportunity  of  noting  its  ripened 
perfections  :  she,  sitting  at  their  feet,  while  her  uncle  and  cousin 
talked  on,  mournfully  at  first,  gravely  then,  and,  at  length,  trust- 
fully, hopefully,  cheerfully. 

"  And  you  have  not  told  me  your  news,  'Squire,"  he  said,  as 
the  conversation  paused  ;  "  you  have  not  told  me  how  you  liked 
your  wanderings  abroad  ;  how  you  bore  your  absence  from  old 
England ;  how  you  tolerated  foreign  habits,  relished  foreign  cook- 
ery, and  found  the  foreigners  themselves.  As  for  Kate,  I  need 
not  ask  whether  she  enjoyed  travelling.  It  is  evident  that  her 
own  prediction  is  fulfilled,  and  that  she  has  brought  back  embel- 
lishment, without  injury  to  the  native  gold.  Italy  has  been 
rightly  called  a  land  of  beauty,  and  seems  to  yield  a  crop  that 
may  be  gathered  and  imported." 

"  While  we  have  been  rubbing  off  rusticity  abroad,  you  seem 
to  have  been  so  fearful  of  rusticating  at  home,  that  you  have  em- 
ployed your  time  in  reviving  your  recollections  of  foreign  com- 
pliment, to  receive  us  suitably  on  our  return,"  said  Kate,  glanc- 
ing up  at  him ;  "  and,  pray,  how  does  your  eagerness  to  hear  un- 
cle's news  sort  with  your  coming  here  so  late  ?  We  arrived  yes- 
terday. Is  it  possible  'Squire  Heathcote's  return  caused  so  little 
sensation  in  the  neighbourhood  that  you  did  not  hear  of  his  ar- 
rival for  more  than  four-and-twenty  hours  after?  " 

"  I  heard  it  last  night,  and  should  have  ridden  over  the  first 
thing  this  morning,  but  that  I  had  business  to  do  which  would 
not  bear  delay,"  he  replied. 

"  Ah-ha !  The  Iron  Cousin  !  '  Je  te  rcconnais  bien  la,  mon 
cher,'  Monsieur  le  Fer!"  she  exclaimed,  laughing.  "  '  He  s;i\.- 
his  name  is  Master  Fer,'  indeed,  in  that  one  little  sentence,  at 
truly  as  though  he  had  uttered  a  dozen  !  " 

"  How  you  are  running  on,  Kate !  What  do  you  mean  ? 
What  arc  you  talking  about  ?  "  said  her  uncle,  who  was  some' 


THE    IRON    COUSIN".  187 

times  puzzled  by  her  sudden  mad-cap  flights  of  allusion  and 
illustration. 

"  Nothing,  uncle;  I  am  only  amused  to  see  how  the  bar  to 
his  coming,  rang  true  metal  upon  proof.  I  guessed  it  was  some 
such  iron  impediment  that  kept  the  Iron  Cousin  from  coming  to 
welcome  us  home,  as — as  he  ought  to  have  done." 

"  As  he  wished  to  have  done — as  he  would  have  done — had 
not  a  less  pleasant  duty  called  for  his  first  care.  It  was  serious, 
it  was  of  importance,  or  I  should  assuredly  not  have  let  it  inter- 
fere with  my  strongest  wish.  But  I  have  always  found  that  I 
can  enjoy  the  accomplishment  of  my  wishes  best  when  I  have 
left  nothing  to  reproach  myself  with,  in  their  pursuit;  and  I 
could  not  have  come  to  Heathcote  to  see  you  both,  this  morning, 
knowing  I  had  neglected  that  which  would  have  been  neglected 
irretrievably,  by  my  doing  so.  I  could  not  have  looked  you  both 
in  the  face,  I  could  not  have  grasped  hands,  I  could  not  have  ex- 
changed greetings  with  the  free,  unshackled  soul,  which  such 
happiness  should  be  tasted  with,  if  •  But  no  matter  for  the 

cause ;  suffice  it,  it  was  impossible  my  coming  this  morning,  as  I 
desired." 

"  My  dear  fellow !  you  are  only  too  good  to  give  us  this  ex- 
planation," said  the  'Squire.  "  I  have  no  doubt  your  motive 
was  a  good  one,  and  that  you  were  quite  right.  All  I  have  to 
Bay  is,  come  when  you  will  and  can,  you  are  always  welcome 
here." 

" '  Right ! '  "  echoed  Kate  ;  "  of  course  he  was.  Who  ever 
questioned  the  Iron  Cousin's  being  quite  '  right '  in  all  he  does  •, 
or,  who  ever  questioned  his  '  right,1  his  perfect  '  right,'  to  do  as 
he  thinks  fit  ?  Whatever  he  resolves  upon,  is  sure  to  bo  '  wisest, 
virtunusest,  discreetest,  best ; '  and  he  has  undoubted  title  to  per- 
form it  after  his  own  supremely  wise,  virtuous,  discreet,  and  best 
|.«.^ililf  fashion." 

"  If  the  Iron  Cousin   is  unchanged,  plain-spoken,  sari 
Kate  is  no  Uss  so,"  remarked  I'Yrmor  Worthington,  in  liis  own 
smilinir  tone. 

"  Would  you  have  her  clian^'.-.l ''.  "    uhc    replied. 


188  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

we're  both  admirably  well  as  we  are ;  true  to  our  respective 
qualities.  You,  a  lump  of  impenetrable  ore — sterling  enough, 
perhaps,  in  its  grim,  sober,  respectable  way;  I,  blunt,  odd,  and, 
possibly,  unpolished  and  rough  too,  in  my  way ;  just  sufficient  to 
prove  my  being  of  kin  to  the  iron  substance." 

"  Ah,  Fermor !  how  glad  I  am  to  be  at  home  again  !  "  said 
the  'Squire.  "  It  was  but  a  moment  before  you  came  in  that  I 
was  saying  to  Kate,  there's  no  place,  after  all,  like  dear  old 
England  ! " 

"  For  delectable  weather — none,  certainly,"  said  Kate,  going 
towards  the  window,  and  looking  out  upon  the  dark,  starless 
night.  "  The  wind  is  rising.  Hark  !  how  it  is  whistling  you  to 
come  forth  and  enjoy  the  zephyrs  this  fine  May  evening.  The 
ride  home  to  Worthington  will  be  passing  pleasant.  Somewhat 
chill  and  moist,  perhaps  ;  the  reverse  of  balmy.  Nevertheless, 
a  touch  of  distastefulness  will  but  recommend  it  to  the  Iron 
Cousin.  His  nerves  are  braced  against  disagreeables :  his  pre- 
ference lies  that  way." 

"  Fermor,  you  won't  think  of  returning  to  Worthington 
to-night  ?  You  will  take  a  bed  here,  of  course,"  said  the 
'Squire. 

"  I  wish  I  could,"  returned  Fermor ;  "  but  the  fact  is,  the 
affair  which  rendered  my  presence  necessary  this  morning,  will 
require  it  again  the  first  thing  to-morrow,  in  order  to  complete 
what  I  want  to  achieve.  I  don't  know  why  I  should  make  a  mys- 
tery of  it  nor  do  I  wish  to  affect  one — only In  short,  there 

is  a  poor  fellow  whose  trial  is  pending  at  the  assize-town  yonder, 
for  poaching ;  and  as  I  have  every  reason  to  believe  him  hardly 
dealt  by,  if  not  absolutely  innocent  of  the  charge  brought  against 
him  by  an  oppressor  and  persevering  enemy  of  his,  I  am  deter- 
mined to  lose  no  chance  of  bringing  him  off,  if,  by  my  attendance 
in  court,  by  my  countenance  and  support  there,  and  by  aiding 
him  in  his  defence,  I  can  effect  what  I  hope — his  honourable 
ucquittal." 

"  My  dear  fellow  !  "  said  the  Squire,  u  I'm  heartily  glad  to 
find  that  you  are  beginning  your  career  of  country  gentleman  an 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  189 

you  onght ;  helping  your  poor  neighbours,  and  taking  an  active 
part  in  looking  into  their  grievances,  and  seeing  em  righted. 
Only  be  sure  that  they  are  in  their  rights." 

"  Oh,  in  a  question  of  '  rights '  and  '  righting,'  you  may 
safely  trust  the  Iron  Cousin,  uncle,"  said  Kate. 

"  Yes,  yes ;  I  know,"  rejoined  the  'Squire ;  "  all  I  mean  is, 
don't  be  led  away  by  any  romantic  notions  about  poachers,  Fer- 
aior,  my  boy  1  Depend  on  it,  they're  a  bad  lot — a  very  bad  lot. 
Perhaps  this  fellow  is  only  imposing  on  you,  with  a  plausible 
story  of  his  innocence.  I  always  make  it  a  ru.e  to  suspect  a 
poacher  of  lying,  or  any  enormity.  If  a  chap  will  break  into 
your  preserves,  and  steal  a  bird,  why  not  rob  your  house,  or  cut 
your  throat  ?  If  he'll  springe  a  hare,  why  shouldn't  he  commit 
any  other  baseness — cheat,  thieve,  pilfer,  or  tell  you  a  whining, 
pitiful  tale  of  starving,  and  oppression,  and  persecution,  and  I 
know  not  what,  which  these  fellows  can  always  get  up  ?  " 

"  My  dear  'Squire,"  said  Fermor,  with  his  grave  smile,  "  I 
don't  know  that  I'm  prepared  to  go  quite  so  far  as  you  do,  even 
supposing  a  man  were  convicted  of  being  a  poacher ;  but  the  one 
I  speak  of  I  firmly  believe  never  committed  this  most  heinous  of 
offences  in  a  sportsman's  eye  ;  although  circumstances  and  pre- 
sumptive  evidence  are  so  strongly  against  him,  that  it  behoves 
me  to  try  all  in  my  power  to  have  him  cleared.  I  shall  not  rest 
till  1  do." 

"  You  have  my  best  wishes  for  a  speedy  rest,  good  cousin," 
nai«l  Kate.  "  Meantime  I  will  retire  to  mine,  while  you  ride 
forth  into  the  bleak  delights  of  this  May  night" 

"  And  be  sure  you  let  us  have  the  earliest  news  of  what  ver- 
dict you  obtain,"  said  the  'Squire.  "  We  shall  expect  you  over 
iit  1 1 .  .ithcotc  the  first  moment  you  can  come.  In  all  probability 
you  will  find  an  addition  to  our  party.  While  we  were  abroad,  I 
heard  the  news  of  aunt  Mustley's  death.  I  find  she  has  left  tin- 
bulk  of  her  property,  which  was  large,  to  our  mutual  connections, 
the  Whites  of  Kj^liam  1'ark.  The  old  lady  hud  a  perfect  right 
to  do  as  she  liked  with  her  own,  of  course.  Hut  as  it  wa»  al- 
\jiceteiJ-.-l  don't  know  how  it  mi  taken  thus  for 


190  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

grtinted  that  the  old  gentlewoman  would  leave  her  money  to  mo 
as  her  nephew,  and  nearest  relation.  I  only  know  it  was  generally 
talked  of  among  them  as  an  understood  thing — however,  as  this 
was  always  expected,  upon  finding  that  we  were  all  mistaken,  I 
thought  it  would  be  only  right,  and  kind,  and  friendly, — just  to 
show  that  I  felt  no  grudge  or  jealousy  against  the  Whites,  poor 
things  !  who  were  of  course  not  to  blame,  if  my  aunt  would  leave 
them  her  fortune  instead  of  me, — to  invite  them  here  for  a  visit 
on  our  return  to  England.  We  found  a  letter  waiting  for  us  on 
our  arrival,  to  say  that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  White  were  unable  to  leave 
home  just  at  present,  but  that  their  daughter  would  be  delighted 
to  spend  some  time  with  us  at  Heathcote  ;  and  that  we  might  ex- 
pect her  on  the  fifth,  which  is  the  day  after  to-morrow.  Being 
about  Kate's  age,  she'll  make  a  nice  companion  for  her ;  .so  I'm 
glad  she's  coming." 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

Miss  WHITE,  attended  by  her  maid,  Dawson,  reached  the  Hall 
on  the  day  appointed.  She  brought  another  very  amiable  letter 
from  her  mamma,  Mrs.  White,  repeating  how  much  pleased  she 
was  that  her  daughter  should  have  this  opportunity  of  prosecut- 
ing an  acquaintance  with  Miss  Ireton,  to  whom  Alicia,  she  said, 
had  taken  quite  a  fancy,  when  they  met  formerly.  This,  as  Mrs. 
White  knew  it  would,  went  straight  to  the  heart  of  the  'Squire, 
The  letter  went  on  to  say,  that  it  was  well  to  encourage  friend- 
ships between  young  girls  where  the  attachment  was  likely  to  be 
BO  mutually  advantageous.  This  she  thought  extremely  conde- 
scending, and  would  seem  both  candid  and  generous.  Farther, 
the  letter  stated  that,  especially  where  ties  of  family  connection 
bound  the  two  parties,  it  was  advisable  that  these  intimacies 
should  be  fostered ;  and  that  for  her  part  she  approved  of  pro 
moting  good  understanding  amongst  kindred.  There  was  one 
thing  which  the  letter  did  not  say.  which  was,  that  Mrs.  Whitg 


THE    IKON    COUSIN.  191 

was  particularly  glad  that  her  daughter  should  be  in  the  neigh 
bourhood,  and  have  frequent  opportunities  of  meeting  Feimor 
Worthington,  Esq.,  of  Worthington  Court,  whom  she  had  long 
had  in  her  eye  as  an  eligible  match.  But  this  there  was  no  need 
of  mentioning.  The  letter  was  seconded  by  an  affable  message 
from  Mr.  White ;  while  both  letter  and  message  were  delivered 
with  a  pretty  little  speech  from  herself,  by  Miss  White. 

She  had  a  recommendatory,  ingratiatory  way  with  her  when 
she  spoke,  as  if  solicitous  of  favour,  and  seeking  good  opinion, 
at  each  word,  look,  or  gesture.  She  was  always  dressed  with  ex- 
tremest  care,  and  had  the  air  of  being  perpetually  on  her  best  be- 
haviour. She  was  moderately  pretty  and  passed  for  very  pretty, 
by  dint  of  letting  it  be  understood  that  she  was  considered  so,  and 
by  making  her  style  of  adornment  proclaim  her  pretensions,  answer 
to  the  assumed  point,  and  aid  as  much  as  possible  to  rendering  it 
a  fact. 

'•  My  clear  Miss  Ireton," — she  began,  the  first  time  she  and 
Kate  were  alone. 

"  Call  me  Kate,"  interrupted  the  latter  ;  "  the  formality  of  sur- 
name is  awkward  among  those  who  live  in  a  house  together." 

"  True,  quite  true ;  besides,  it  is  so  much  more  agreeable  be- 
tween friends  :  and  I  hope  you  and  I  shall  become  friends — quite 
friends — bosom  friends — dear  Kate.  And  you  must  call  me  Ali- 
cia. Well,  but  I  was  going  to  say, — what  a  delight  it  will  be  to 
me  to  see  all  your  beautiful  things  that  you've  brought  from 
1.  You  must  show  me  all  your  lovely  foreign  fashions ; 
and  instruct  my  poor  English  ignorance  in  what  it  is  proper  to 
vrear." 

"  I'm  afraid  I  am  a  very  bad  authority  in  dress,"  said  Kate. 
u  You  should  be  the  adept,  for  your  toilette  looks  to  me — as  far 
as  I'm  a  judge — the  perfection  of  good  taste  and  elegance." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?  You  arc  very  kind,''  replied  Miss  White, 
looking  delighted.  "  Well,  perhaps,  so  far,  I  am  likely  to  be  well 
dressed  ;  for  papa  allows  me  unlimited  expense  in  that  article  ; 
and  mamma  deals  with  a  London  milliner,  who  visits  Paria  regu- 
larly every  season  '' 


192  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  Then  how  could  you  talk  of  your  '  Eaglish  ignorance  ?  '  " 
said  Kate. 

Miss  White  looked  a  little  disconcerted  at  this  blunt  question ; 
but,  as  a  less  difficulty  than  finding  a  reply  to  it,  she  returned  to 
another  clause  of  the  subject. 

"  Well,  but  you  must  not  forget  to  show  me  all  your  bcauti- 
knick-knacks." 

"  What  beautiful  knick-knacks  ?  "  said  Kate. 

"  Why,  your  cameos,  mosaics,  or  carved  corals.  You  know 
what  I  mean  ;  those  thousand  charming  elegancies  of  curious  jew- 
ellery, that  every  body  brings  with  them  from  abroad, — from  It- 
aly, where  I  hear  you've  been." 

"  No,  I  really  have  none  of  these  things  you  mention ;  not  a 
single  brooch  or  bracelet.  My  uncle  more  than  once  would  have 
treated  me  to  trinkets ;  but  I  knew  that  the  holiday  journey  he 
was  indulging  me  with  must  cost  a  great  deal  of  money,  so  I 
would  not  let  him  buy  me  one  bauble." 

"  You  have  great  influence  with  your  uncle,  haven't  you  ?  r 
asked  Alicia  White,  musingly. 

"  He  is  very  good ;  he  lets  me  do  just  as  I  like  with  him 
Why  do  you  ask  ?  "  answered  Kate. 

"  Oh,  nothing ;  I  only  meant — you  use  your  power  different- 
ly from  what  some  girls  would,"  replied  Miss  White.  "  Many 
would  only  think  of  getting  the  ornaments ;  you  prevented  their 
purchase.  I  admire  your  forbearance." 

"  There's  nothing  to  admire,"  said  Kate.  "  I  don't  care  much 
for  ornaments ;  and  if  I  did,  I  should  have  thought  it  wrong  to 
obtain  them  from  uncle,  when  I  knew  they  led  him  to  spend  more 
than  he  could  perhaps  well  afford." 

"  That's  an  excellent  way  of  thinking;  and  I  feel  quite  proud 
that  I  may  hope  to  form  a  friendship  with  one  who  has  such 
charming  principles,"  said  Miss  White,  in  her  tone  of  blandish- 
ment. 

"  I  believe  I  ought  to  say  thank  you,  for  making  me  such  a 
pretty  speech,"  said  Kate,  laughing.  "  But  I  fear  I'm  almost 
as  ungrateful  for  pretty  speeches,  as  I'm  indifferent  about  trin- 
kets. You  must  not  waste  them  upon  me,  Alicia." 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  193 

Miss  White  dealt  in  "  pretty  speeches ;"  she  had  quite  a 
fcnae.k  at  making  them,  and  delighted  in  receiving  them ;  she 
would  introduce  them  in  the  most  ingenious  way  ;  devising  little 
plots  and  plans  for  opportunities  to  bring  them  in  herself,  and 
laying  little  traps  to  obtain,  if  possible,  a  return  in  kind.  She 
liked  "  pretty  speeches  ;"  they  looked  pretty  in  her,  and  sounded 
prettily  from  others.  She  had  always  a  neat  and  appropriate 
stock  of  them  on  hand ;  and  expected  her  associates  to  be  equally 
well  provided.  She  felt  grateful  and  winning  while  she  uttered 
them  ;  gracious  and  gratified  when  they  were  responded  to.  She 
thought  they  wonderfully  became  her  own  small  mouth  ;  and 
were  particularly  pleasing  from  manlier  ones  ;  they  eat  smoothly 
on  her  lips,  and  sweetly  tickled  her  car.  She  fancied  she  looked 
especially  well  and  amiable,  so  soft,  so  engaging,  while  mincing 
out  her  own  "  pretty  speeches ;"  and  was  conscious  of  looking 
her  best  when  languishingly  listening  and  smiling  to  those  in 
reply.  She  liked  "  pretty  speeches''  most  with  gentlemen;  but 
she  did  not  neglect  them  with  women.  She  lavished  them  quite 
as  frequently  upon  her  own  sex ;  feeling  that  they  gave  her  a 
grace  with  the  other.  She  considered  a  "  a  pretty  speech ''  never 
thrown  away  ;  it  either  brought  her  ready  payment,  or  gained 
her  credit.  She  had  either  immediate  interest  for  her  outlay,  or 

me  interesting  on  the  strength  of  it. 

These  favourite  "pretty  speeches"  of  Miss  White,  so  far 
frnin  finding  favour  with  Kate  Ireton,  were  peculiarly  distasteful 
to  her.  Instead  of  charming,  they  always  had  the  effect  of  irri- 
tating her.  Instead  of  appearing  winning  and  attractive,  they 
.irtrd  repulsively.  They  seemed  somehow  to  detract  from  Ali- 
cia's power  of  gaining  upon  her  regard,  rather  than  aid  it  in 
inspiring  more.  She  felt  as  if  they  grated,  inexplicably  and  in- 
expressibly, upon  her  wish  to  try  and  like  the  companion  her 
uncle  had  chosen,  sufficiently  well  for  a  friend.  Whenever 
Alicia  White  made  one  of  those  "pretty  speeches  '  Kate  Treton 
ielt  involuntarily  repelled  ;  and  whenever  she  seomod  to  expect 
one  from  her,  Kate  was  seized  with  a  sudden  incapability  of 
uUerini:  anything  else  than  the  most  untoward  reply,  or  an  uu 
possibility  to  get  out  a  single  word  of  any  sort. 
9 


194  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

Breakfast  was  hardly  over,  the  morning  after  Miss  White's 
arrival  at  Heathcote  Hall,  when,  as  she  was  standing  by  the 
'Squire's  chair,  expatiating  on  the  beauties  of  his  park,  and  cast 
ing  her  eyes  towards  it  while  she  spoke,  she  suddenly  exclaimed  : 
— "  Ah,  here's  young  Mr.  Worth ington  coming  up  the  avenu* 
I  shall  be  so  pleased  to  see  him  again.  What  a  very  superior 
young  man  he  is  ! " 

"  '  Superior  !'  To  what  ?  To  whom  'i  To  all  other  young 
men,  do  you  mean  ?  "  said  Kate. 

"  Well,  perhaps  I  do,"  said  Miss  White,  looking  down  and 
playing  with  the  tassels  of  her  morning-dress.  "  At  any  rate, 
he's  greatly  superior  to  the  common  run  of  young  men.  But  you 
mustn't  tell  him  I  say  so." 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  Kate,  quietly. 

Miss  White  looked  rather  blank,  as  if  this  were  not  exactly 
the  reply  she  had  expected. 

When  Fermor  entered  the  room,  Kate  was  struck  with  hia 
appearance.  She  saw  that  he  was  a  good  deal  altered  ;  that  he 
looked  thin  and  worn.  What  she  had  not  noticed,  by  the  uncer- 
tain glimmer  of  the  fire-lit  room,  in  the  first  excitement  of  meet- 
ing, she  perceived  now  that  she  beheld  him  fully,  in  broad  day- 
light. The  sight  of  his  black  coat,  too,  moved  her ;  and  after 
bidding  him  good  morning,  while  her  uncle  presented  him  and 
Miss  White  to  one  another,  she  went  over  to  the  window-seat, 
and  stood  looking  out. 

Presently,  she  was  joined  by  Alicia  White  ;  Fermor  remain- 
ing to  talk  with  the  'Squire  about  the  issue  of  the  supposed 
poacher's  trial,  which  had  ended  in  undoubted  proof  of  his 
innocence. 

"  How  interesting  young  Mr.  Worthington  looks  in  his  mourn- 
ing for  his  father  ! "  said  Miss  White,  in  a  lowered  but  suffi- 
ciently distinct  tone,  in  which  she  was  given  to  talk  of  people  in 
their  presence,  half  aside. 

"  '  Interesting  ! '  That's  an  epithet  for  a  young  lady  !  I 
should  never  have  dreamed  of  applying  it  to  the  Iron  Cousin  !  " 
returned  Kate 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  195 

u  And  how  pale  he  looks  !  Quite  wan  and  wasted,"  conti- 
nued Miss  White.  "  He  really  should  have  advice.  He  has  nr 
one  to  take  care  of  him,  now;  no  mother, — no  parent.  I  declare. 
I  .jiiite  pity  him.  Don't  you  ?  " 

"  N'o ;  pity  is  not  for  the  Iron  Cousin." 

What  makes  you  call  young  Mr.  Worthington — at  least, 
I  shouldn't  say  '  young'  Mr.  Worthington  any  longer ;  he's 
Mr.  Worthington  now,  poor  fellow  !  since  he's  lost  his  father, — 
but  what  makes  you  call  him  by  that  odd  name,  Kate?  So  harsh  ; 
so  ugly  ;  so  unfit." 

"  It's  precisely  because  I  think  it  so  fit,  that  I  call  him  by 
it,"  replied  she. 

"  Nay,  Kate,  now  you're  joking.  Surely,  you  can't  think 
that  gruff,  plain,  uncouth,  ill-favoured  title,  a  suitable  one  for 
him;  a  young  man  so  handsome,  so  distinguished-looking;  with 
such  a  noble  air,  such  a " 

"  You  forget  he's  not  deaf,  in  addition  to  his  other  personal 
advantages  ;  and  you're  rather  freely  discussing  them,"  inter- 
rupted Kate.  "  You'll  offend  him,  or  put  him  to  the  blush  ;  and 
then  you'll  have  to  ask  his  pardon,  which  I  should  think  would 
not  be  pleasant." 

Miss  White  was  silenced,  for  the  moment.  Presently  she 
said  : — "  Kate,  dear,  where's  your  work-basket,  or  work-box,  01 
whatever  you  use  for  your  drawing-room  work  ?  " 

"  I  have  no  drawing  room  work,"  she  answered.  SometimtM 
I  help  Matty  with  her  disagreeable  useful  work,  as  I  call  it, — 
work  that  must  be  done, — just  the  actual  necessary  house  noi  die- 
work,  making  and  mending,  and  so  forth  ;  or  now  and  then,  1 
knit  a  stout  comforter  for  uncle's  throat,  or  a  pair  of  cuffs.  But 
I  dn  it  at  odd  times, — only  when  I'm  obliged;  and  I  have  uo 
set  work-table,  or  box,  or  basket  " 

"  Oh,  I  can't  do  without  my  little  bit  of  fancy  work,  I  own," 
paid  M:---  White.  "  It  employs  one's  hands  s  lv.  There- 

for.-,  I  l;r..ii'_'ht  my  box  with  me,  that  \v«>  might  I"'  '1'iite  notable 
and  «..  •  tM. .  I'll  ring,  and  desire  them  to  tell  Dawson  to  bring 
it  for  me.  it'  you'll  allow  inc." 


196  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

u  By  all  means,"  said  Kate. 

When  the  work-box  was  brought,  it  proved  to  be  quite  an 
elegant  casket ;  of  mother-o'-pearl,  and  silver  inlaying,  and 
ornamented  finish.  It  was  of  fairy  proportions  ;  and  had  dainty 
little  trays,  filled  with  orderly  rows  of  needles,  of  various  kinds. 
and  sizes,  and  degrees  of  slenderness  and  length,  for  knitting 
and  netting — crotchet  not  being  then  in  vogue.  Smooth  littio 
ivory  shuttles  for  tatting,  curious  little  machines  and  devices  for 
knotting,  followed  next.  Star-shaped  winders,  with  silks  of  every 
colour  in  the  rainbow  were  there ;  and  singularly  enough,  all 
quite  full — -not  a  thread  displaced,  not  an  end  disturbed,  not  one 
begun.  Supplies  of  new  skeins  were  also  there ;  equally  un- 
broached, — in  their  original  integrity.  Underneath  the  whole, 
lay  a  little  morsel  of  cambric,  tacked  upon  an  elaborate  pattern 
of  close  French  embroidery — which  was  begun,  and  only  begun  ; 
from  month  to  month,  whoever  had  had  the  curiosity  to  inspect 
Miss  White's  box,  that  cambric  worked  collar  would  have  been 
found  precisely  in  the  same  stage  of  advancement.  With  the 
cambric  work,  lay  a  commenced  purse, — that  is  to  say,  a  few 
rows,  with  a  few  beads  upon  them,  and  a  winder  of  silk,  strung 
with  more,  ready  for  use.  This,  Miss  White  took  out ;  and 
began  knitting,  with  her  white  hands  and  slender  fingers,  in  a 
proper  attitude  for  showing  them  to  the  best  advantage ;  just  as 
Fcrmor  Worthington,  having  finished  his  chat  with  the  'Squire, 
approached  the  table  in  the  window-seat,  where  she  and  Kate 
Ireton  were. 

"  Let  me  see  what  kind  of  a  purse  you  have>  Kate,  dear,"  she 
said.  "  I  dare  say  it  is  something  very  exquisite ;  some  Parisian 
novelty  or  other.  Let  me  look  at  it." 

"  Nay,  it  is  only  this  grum,  dingy,  brown  thing,"  said  Kate 
laughing,  as  she  produced  an  old-fashioned  plain  purse,  that  had 
evidently  seen  service  "  It  was  one  of  Matty's  knitting,  to  take 
abroad,  as  a  keepsake  from  her.  It  went  all  my  travels  with  me, 
therefore  I've  had  rather  an  affection  for  it,  and  kept  it  disgrace- 
fully long  in  use  on  that  account ;  but  it  really  is  worn  out ;  and 
as  my  good  nurse  this  morning  replaced  it  by  another,  I  must  e'en 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  197 

throw  it  away,  not  to  shame  her."  And  Kate  emptied  the  content* 
into  the  new  one,  which  she  took  from  her  pocket,  throwing  th« 
other  into  a  shred-basket  that  stood  upon  the  table. 

'•  I  was  going  to  offer  to  knit  you  one,  Kate,  dear ;  but  I  must 
not  -nfMTSfilt  Matty,"  said  Miss  White.  "I  think,  Mr.  Worth- 
iiiirt'in,  you  must  let  me  finish  this  purse  for  you,"  she  added, 
turning  with  a  captivating  smile  to  Fermor.  "It  will  give  me  an 
objsrt  for  working  hard  to  get  it  done." 

'•  You  are  very  good,"  he  said,  with  his  grave  smile;  "but  I 
fear  those  bright  colours  and  gay  beads  will  be  too  smart  for  my 
wear.  The  <rrum  brown  would  suit  the  Iron  Cousin  better, 
wouldn't  it,  Kate  ?  I  think  I'll  have  it." 

"  It's  old — it's  full  of  holes,"  she  said,  laughing,  as  Fermor 
took  up  the  discarded  purse. 

"  You  shall  mend  them  for  me,"  he  said. 

"  I'm  a  very  bad  workwoman,"  she  replied ;  "  I  should  only 
cobble  them  up." 

"  Then  cobble  them  up,"  he  said. 

"  I  shall  never  make  a  neat  job  of  it ;  it'll  never  be  worth  any- 
thinir,"  she  said. 

'•  X<>  matter;  take  your  needle  and  thread,  when  I  bid  you, 
and  sew  it  up  in  the  best  way  you  can." 

••  Alter  two  words  of  your  phrase,  and  I'll  see  what  I  can  do," 
she  returned.  "  Say  silk,  for  '  thread ; '  and  ask,  for '  bid.'  You 
men  have  no  notion  of  anything  but  needle  and  thread,  when 
stitchery  is  in  question  ;  and  I've  no  notion  of  being  bidden." 

"  The  old  dread  of  being  ordered !  "  laughed  Fermor. 

"  The  old  love  of  command  !  "  retorted  she,  in  the  same  tone. 

'•  Will  you  take  needle  and  silk,  and  do  as  I  ask  you?"  hi 
said,  holding  it  towards  her,  and  looking  steadily  and  smilingly  in 
her  face. 

•'He  is  more  absolute  in  his  asking  than  his  bidding,"  said 
Kate,  as  she  took  the  purse  from  his  hand,  and  turned  to  search 
tor  what  she  required ;  "just  as  ironly  bent  upon  getting  his  own 
ray,  and  no  less  determined  not  to  be  gainsaid." 

••  Mnro  undeniable  and  irresistible,  because  more  persuasive,' 
said  Miss  White. 


198  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  At  any  rate,  he  has  made  his  demand  in  the  prescribed 
words,  and  I  must  e'en  abide  by  mine,"  said  Kate,  as  she  drew 
the  holes  together,  and  made  the  "  grum  brown  "  strong  and  whole 
if  not  very  neat  or  sightly. 

Just  as  this  was  achieved,  an  exclamation  of  surprise  and 
pleasure  from  the  'Squire,  caused  them  all  to  look  up;  and  they 
saw,  approaching  the  house,  a  gentleman  on  horseback, — a  stran- 
ger to  Fermor  Worthington  and  to  Alicia  White, — but  evidently 
none  to  Kate  and  her  uncle,  who  both  gave  animated  tokens  of 
gratification.  The  'Squire,  followed  by  Kate,  hurried  out  to 
receive  the  new  comer  in  the  hall,  and  meet  him  on  his  entrance. 

"  Is  it  possible  ?  Here  so  soon !  We  did  not  expect  you  for 
at  least  a  fortnight  or  three  weeks !  Can  you  have  so  soon  tired 
of  Venice  ?  Arrived  in  England  already !  " 

Such  were  the  exclamations  which  reached  the  ears  of  those 
in  the  parlour,  from  uncle  and  niece  at  once ;  as  they  warmly  wel- 
comed the  guest,  who  leaped  from  his  horse  with  equal  eagerness 
to  greet  them. 

"  Yes;  I  had  a  summons  from  my  mother,  which  quickened  my 
return.  I  am  on  my  way  to  her  now ;  but  having  received  letters* 
again  since,  saying  there  was  no  immediate  hurry,  and  as  Heath- 
cote  Hall  lay  in  my  road  to  Cheltenham,  I  could  not  resist  the 
temptation  of  calling  to  shake  hands  with  my  '  co-mates  in  exile,' 
and  learn  how  they  had  reached  their  own  land." 

"Well;  quite  well !"  returned  the  'Squire.  "And  now,  let 
me  introduce  you  to  some  friends  of  ours  who  are  here.  One  of 
them  you  already  know  something  of,  by  hearsay.  The  other  is 
a  fair  lady,  also  related  to  us ;  so  you  will  find  yourself  quite  at 
home." 

As  Cecil  Lascelles  entered  the  parlour  between  the  'Squire 
and  Kate,  his  frank,  handsome  face,  and  pleasant  bearing,  won 
prepossessingly  and  instantaneously  upon  those  who  were  already 
there.  Miss  White  rose,  and  graciously  bent  her  head  ;  while 
Fermor  Worthiugton  came  forward,  and  in  his  quiet,  but  earnest, 
cordial  manner,  spoke  a  few  courteous  words  to  Cecil,  that  showed 
he  was  known  to  him  through  their  mutual  friend  the  'Squire's 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  199 

rcttcrs.  Cecil  was  not  slow  to  respond  to  his  advance,  in  his  own 
open,  unaffected  way;  and  as  the  'Squire  named  the  two  young 
men  to  each  other,  adding :  "  My  dear  young  friend  and  esteemed 
kinsman,  Fermor  Worthington,"  Cecil  Lascelles  turned  with  a  gay 
look  to  Kate,  and  said :  "  Ah !  the  Iron  Cousin  ?  " 

She  replied  with  a  smiling  nod,  and  then  introduced  him  to 
Alicia  White,  adding  :  "  We  are  a  family  party,  in  short ;  and 
you  will  find  yourself  no  less  familiarly  among  us,  than  when  we 
were  all  so  snugly  domesticated  at  Valetta — beautiful  Valetta ! 
We  have,  alas !  no  vines,  no  Val  d'Arno,  no  Florence  here ;  no 
sun,  no  blue  sky,  to  offer  you  yet,  but  the  latter  may  come  in  good 
time,  when  May  shall  have  recollected  itself,  and  remembered 
what  it  owes  to  its  own  reputation,  and  what,  in  every  sense,  ia 
fairly  to  be  expected." 

"  If  we  have  no  vines,  we  have  stout  English  oaks  to  show 
you,  Cecil,  my  boy ;  ay,  and  stout  English  hearts  to  welcome  you 
with  to  them ;  and  to  all  else  that  old  England — merry  England 
— may  boast,"  said  the  'Squire. 

"Ay,  and  the  oaks  at  Heathcote  Hall,  together  with  its 
master's  heart,  are  among  the  best  oaks  and  hearts  in  the  county, 
nay,  in  broad  England,"  said  Miss  White. 

"  You  are  very  good,  my  dear,"  said  the  'Squire,  laughing; 
"  we  can  show  our  young  friend,  too,  that  the  county  possesses 
its  beauties,  its  toasts,  its  fair  celebrities,  as  well  as  its  fine  trees, 
can't  we  ?  Eggham  Park  is  within  the  same  shire  as  Heathcote, 
I  think." 

Miss  White's  cherry  mouth  assumed  an  innocent  simper,  and 
said  :  "  Oh  !  the  trees  in  papa's  park  arc  very  fine,  I  own  ;  but 
the  oaks  at  Heathcote,  and  the  beeches  at  Worthington,  are 
allowed  by  every  one  to  surpass  them." 

"  I  shall  hope  to  show  you  what  attractions  Worthington 
Court,  as  one  of  our  antique  country  scats,  may  afford,  worthy 
your  notice,"  said  Fermor  to  Cecil.  "  It  is  old-fashioned,  and 
quaint ;  but,  j.< -rliaj.s,  those  form  its  not  least  interesting  features. 
Some  of  the  trees  are  reputed  to  have  been  denizens  of  the  soil 
Vofore  the  Normans  set  foot  upon  it.  Wo  are  famous  for  ovt 


200  THE    IRON   COUSIN. 

trees  hereabouts,  and  cherish  not  a  little  pride  respecting  them 
but  you  must  tell  us   of  your  glorious  giant   palms,  plantains 
mangos,  banyan-trees,  and  other  Indian  forest-kings,  until  you 
lower  our  island  sylvan  complacency  to  its  due  level  and  limit." 

"  Do  not  speak  as  if  I  were  an  alien,"  said  Cecil  laughing. 
"  Though  I  am  Indian  born,  I  am  English  bred  and  nurtured. 
I  am  English  in  all  my  predilections — in  all  my  prides  and  my 
prejudices,  if  you  will." 

"  I  will  answer  for  it,  you  are  a  genuine  Englishman,  my 
dear  boy!"  said  the  'Squire.  "Nobody  but  an  Englishman 
could  have  entered  so  thoroughly  into  my  repugnance  towards 
that  impudent,  grinning  Florentine  flower-wench,  the  first  time 
you  and  I  encountered  each  other.  To  this  day,  I  feel  thankful 
to  you,  for  stepping  forward  to  my  relief.  The  hussey  never 
molested  me  again.  You  stopped  her  effectually." 

Cecil  Lascelles  laughed  at  the  recollection  which  the  'Squire's 
words  recalled.  He  saw  again  the  perplexed  look ;  the  conflict 
between  annoyance,  and  dislike  of  giving  pain  by  rough  repulse, 
all  plainly  legible  in  the  good  'Squire's  air.  "  By  the  bye,  I 
think  you  and  I  did  not  make  acquaintance  that  first  evening, 
Kate,  did  we  ?"  said  he. 

There  was  something  smote  oddly  upon  Fermor  Worthington 
on  hearing  Cecil  Lascelles  address  Kate  Ireton  thus,  by  her 
Christian  name  ;  and  still  more  strangely,  on  hearing  her  reply 
easily :  "  No,  Cecil ;  it  was  at  the  Pitti  gallery,  where  you  gave 
me  up  the  chair  you  had  inadvertently  taken,  not  knowing  it  to 
be  mine  by  right  of  daily  possession  and  liking.  I  did  not  notice 
you  that  first  evening ;  I  was  too  deeply  engaged  listening,  to 
perceive  anything." 

A  moment's  reflection  told  Fermor  how  this  familiarity  of 
appellation  bad  grown  out  of  their  familiar  position.  Inmates 
under  one  roof,  constantly  associating  together,  it  would  have 
been  stiff — almost  absurd,  to  have  preserved  the  distant  "  Mr." 
and  "  Miss,"  in  addressing  each  other ;  they  had  naturally  fallen 
into  the  more  intimate  title,  as  one  better  suited  to  their  relative 
situation ;  and  yet  it  grated  upon  his  ear  each  time  she  used  it 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  !20l 

Kate  never  called  even  himself  by  his  Christian  nainu,  although 
related  to  her  ;  she  always  used  the  word  "  cousin,"  whenever 
she  used  any,  in  speaking  to  him.  But  most  frequently  she  gave 
him  no  name  at  all. 

lie  taxed  himself  with  folly  and  unreasonableness,  and  smiled 
at  his  own  susceptibility  to  have  noticed  such  a  circumstance ; 
nevertheless,  it  was  some  time  before  he  could  become  habituated 
to  its  recurrence. 

At  first,  too,  when  he  beheld  Cecil  Lascelles  so  entirely  at 
home  with  uncle  and  niece  ;  they,  in  turn,  so  at  ease  with  him  ; 
all  three  talking  so  animatedly  and  happily  of  things,  persons, 
ami  scenes  they  had  known  in  common  ;  it  struck  a  little  uncom- 
fortably upon  Former's  heart.  But  his  was  too  noble  a  nature 
to  feel  envy  or  resentment.  lie  only  felt  regret  that  he  could 
not  have  been  abroad  then  with  his  friends,  to  share  their  pleas- 
ures and  enjoyments,  to  partake  their  gratifications,  and  now  to  be 
able  to  understand  their  allusions,  and  sympathize  with  their  remi- 
niscences. 

A  feeling  of  mutual  dislike  between  the  two  young  men  might 
have  arisen  out  of  these  instinctive  sensations  existing  on  t! 
of  one  of  them  ;  but  Cecil  was  too  frank-hearted,  and  Fermor  toe 
generous   and  high-minded,  to  entertain  anything  else  than  rrcip 
iii,  each   possessing  so  many  good  qualities  to  r»f«ni 
nieml  him  to  the  other's  regard 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

"  Tin-  weather  seems  to  promise  propitiously,"  Baid  Cecil ;  "  and 
I  am  anxious  to  make  acquaintance  with  the  woods  of  Heuthcote. 
What  say  you,  'Squire?  Will  you  indulge  me?  And  do  you 
ih ink  you  can  persuade  the  young  ladies  to  accompany  us  in  a 
ride  through  them,  this  April-faced  May  afternoon  ?  ;' 

••  A  capital  idea,  Cecil.     The  way  to  put  its  doubtful  d  i 
into  good-humour,  and  bring  out  all  its  M  -t  it     And 


202  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

we  will.  Come,  girls ;  on  with  your  habits  !  Kate,  bid  them  sad 
die  Black  Talbot  for  Alicia.  Or,  stay;  perhaps  Spanish  Jenny 
will  be  better.  You  and  I  will  take  White  Bess  and  Chestnut 
Phillis,  as  usual ;  while  Fermor  and  Cecil  will  have  their  own 
nags." 

"  Dear  'Squire,  pray  let  me  have  a  quiet  steed  !  "  said  Alicia 
White  ;  "  you  know  what  a  poor  horsewoman  I  am.  Black  Tal- 
bot sounds  formidably ;  and  I  hope  Spinning  Jenny — I  think  you 
called  it — has  no  tricks,  for  I'm  a  terribly  timid  rider,  you  know.5' 

"  The  mare  has  no  claim  to  the  giddy  title  you  give  her,  Ali- 
cia," said  Kate  laughing.  "  Spanish  Jenny,  not  Spinning  Jenny  : 
she's  a  pretty  little  Spanish  jennet  my  uncle  took  a  fancy  to  ;  and 
Ben  Dimble  hearing  her  called  so,  thought  it  her  name — with  a 
difference.  She  has  been  known  among  us,  in  consequence,  as 
Spanish  Jenny  ever  since.  A  more  gentle,  docile  creature  can- 
not be.  Ambling  Lambkin  might  be  her  appropriate  title." 

"  Then  she  would  not  suit  you,  Kate,"  observed  Cecil.  "  I 
know  your  style  of  riding  of  old.  The  feat,  coming  back  from 
Fiesole,  to  wit !  More  like  a  knight  of  Rodenstein — the  black 
huntsman,  who  rides  the  air,  with  his  skeleton  train  by  night, 
through  German  forests — than  a  sober,  mortal  young  gentlewo- 
man." 

"  Let  my  sins  rest ;  they  had  their  due  share — and  more  than 
their  due  share — of  chiding,  at  the  time,"  she  said,  with  a  height- 
ened colour.  "  By  the  way,  Cecil,  don't  let  me  forget  to  show 
you  my  slip  of  the  Valletta  vine,  which  we  brought  safely  to  Eng- 
land with  us,  thanks  to  Mrs.  Lindon's  excellent  contrivance  in 
packing.  It  is  planted  in  the  green-house,  and  looks  thrivingly,  I 
assure  you." 

"  My  dear  'Squire  !  I  depend  upon  you  and  Mr.  Worthing- 
ton  to  take  care  of  me  on  horseback,  or  I  can  never  venture,"  said 
Miss  White;  "  I  almost  tremble  at  the  thought  already." 

"  We'll  take  good  care  of  you,  never  fear  !  "  said  the  'Squire. 
'  Before  you  leave  Heathcote,  we  shall  have  made  you  as  fear 
loss  a  horsewoman  as  my  Kate." 

''Oh!  I  never  expect  to  reach  Kate's  perfection,"  said  Miss 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  203 

White ;  -<  though,  if  anything  could  inspire  me  with  hope,  it 
would  be  such  tuition  as  yours ;  or  give  me  courage,  it  would  bo 
such  cure  as  yours  and  Mr.  Worthington's." 

Miss  White's  pretty  tremors  and  timidity  contrived  admira- 
bly to  enlist  the  attention  of  her  two  chosen  cavaliers  during  the 
ride.  She  appealed  to  them  for  protection  ;  she  turned  to  them 
constantly  for  fresh  directions;  she  made  such  incessant  littlo 
claims  upon  their  interest  and  their  assistance ;  she  placed  her- 
self so  confidingly  and  so  implicitly  under  their  guidance,  that 
they  could  do  no  other  than  afford  it  to  her  interesting  helplessness. 

By  this  means  Kate  was  chiefly  left  to  do  the  honours  of  her 
uncle's  park  to  their  guest.  But  the  'Squire's  hearty  eagerness 
and  hospitality  leading  him  frequently  to  join  in  the  discussion 
of  Heathcote's  beauties,  suggesting  its  finest  points,  and  drawing 
Cecil's  attention  to  its  best  views,  caused  him  to  lose  sight  of  his 
duties  as  riding-master;  so  that  the  self-elected  pupil  fell  almost 
wholly  to  the  share  of  his  coadjutor. 

Fermor's  courtesy  would  not  allow  of  his  neglecting  the 
charge,  which  thus  devolved  upon  him ;  but  he,  in  his  own  firm 
tranquil  manner,  ordered  it  so,  that  the  conversation  and  conso- 
ciation of  the  party  were  kept  as  general  as  possible.  He  es- 
chewed all  endeavours  at  special  little  by-talk,  and  eluded  various 
small  attempts  at  lingering  behind  the  others.  Someway,  the 
adroit  management  found  itself  quietly  counteracted  and  set 
aside,  it  hardly  knew  how,  by  the  calm,  maniy  will.  Alicia 
White  began  to  understand,  in  the  course  of  that  ride,  why  it 
was  that  Kate  Ireton  called  Fermor  .Worthington  her  "  Iron 
Cousin." 

Upon  one  of  these  occasions,  when,  by  his  tacit  arrangement, 
«he  found  herself  riding  abreast  with  their  companions  all  to- 
gether, down  one  of  the  broad,  grassy  glades,  and  while  under 
the  influence  of  a  slight  feeling  of  peevishness  at  the  imperturba- 
bility and  self-possessed  composure  by  which  she  felt  herself  un- 
accountably baffled  and  controlled,  Alicia  White  turned  from 
him,  and  said  to  Kate,  "  Why,  my  <l«-ar  Kate,  what  a  very  lovely 
whip  you  have  then-  !  Y"ii  told  me  you  had  brought  no  Italian 


204  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

elegancies  with  you ;  and  I  am  sure  that  is  foreign  workmanship 
Such  beautiful  carving  !  such  an  exquisite  design  !  How  cams 
you  to  say  you  had  no  beautiful  knick-knacks  from  abroad  ?  " 

"  I  thought  you  spoke  of  trinkets — of  jewellery, — of  wearing- 
trinkets,  I  mean ;  you  mentioned  corals,  cameos,  mosaics ;  I 
really  forgot  this  ivory-headed  whip,  which  is  certainly  very 
beautiful.  I  ought  to  have  shown  it  to  you,"  returned  Kate 
passing  it  across  her  uncle,  who  rode  between  them. 

"  Do  you  remember  the  day  you  brought  it  to  Valletta,  Ce- 
cil?" said  the  'Squire,  as  he  restored  it  to  Kate,  when  Miss- 
White  had  ecstacised  and  admired  it  sufficiently.  "  Do  you  re- 
member what  a  broiling  hot  sun  there  was,  though  it  was  a  good 
two  months  nearer  winter  than  now ;  and  yet  what  a  pace  you 
rode  at  ?  and  how  I — " 

"  March  in  Tuscany,"  interrupted  Kate,  while  a  bright  colour 
mounted  to  her  temples,  "  shames  May  in  shivering  England. 
Here  are  we,  within  a  few  weeks  of  Midsummer,  right  glad  of  a 
good  canter  to  warm  us.  What  say  you,  Cecil, — what  say  you 
all, — to  a  race  to  yonder  knoll  ?  Uncle,  I'll  wager  you  a  silver 
penny,  I  reach  there  first.  White  Bess  for  merry  England  •: 
Onward  !  Charge  !  " 

Miss  White  uttered  a  small  shuddering  scream,  crying,  "  Oh, 
no  racing !  no  racing  !  I  couldn't  think  of  racing  !  "  But  Fer 
rnor  Worthington,  seizing  her  rein,  and  leading  her  rapidly  on, 
exclaimed,  "  Trust  to  me  !  trust  to  Spanish  Jenny  !  We'll  bear 
you  harmless  !  "  They  all  darted  forward  in  a  compact  body, 
making  straight  for  the  green  rising  ground,  which  Kate  had  ap- 
pointed their  goal. 

The  horses  were  well  matched  in  strength  and  swiftness  ;  and 
the  riders  kept  for  some  time  about  evenly  in  advance.  But 
just  as  they  neared  the  knoll,  White  Bess  gained  visibly.  Per- 
haps the  'Squire  favoured  his  niece,  and  held  back  a  little ;  but 
Cecil  tried  his  best.  Kate,  however,  was  all  but  winner,  when 
suddenly  Spanish  Jenny  made  a  spring  onward,  and  bore  Miss 
White  like  the  wind,  lightly,  easily,  conqueringly,  up  the  slope 
reaching  the  top  first. 


THK    IKON    rorSW.  205 

There  was  a  general  shout  of  congratulation,  nil  laughingly 
Miss  White  never  again  to  plead  her  bad  horsemanship 
while  she.  disclaiming,  protesting,  deprecating,  but  in  a  fluttei 
of  delight,  assured  them  it  was  all  Mi».  Worthington's  good  man- 
agement— that  if  it  had  not  been  for  him,  she  should  never  hare 
won  the  race  ;  nay,  she  should  never  have  attempted  it ;  and 
that  even  now,  she  could  not  understand  how  it  was  effected  ; 
but  believed  that  he  must  have  used  magic,  for  that  he  had  kept 
close  to  her  side, — that  is,  to  Spanish  Jenny's  side, — who  had 
all  of  a  sudden  bounded  forward  as  if  urged  by  an  impulse  she 
could  not  resist. 

"  I  suspect  it  was  no  sorcery,  nothing  supernatural ;  but  a 
natural   expedient  for  the  Iron  Cousin  to  apply, — a  little 
quiet  coercion,"  laughed  Kate. 

"  Just  so,"  replied  Fermor.  "  A  timely-applied  fillip,  that 
was  all.  I  was  willing  that  the  pupil  who  did  me  the  honour  to 
appoint  mo  one  of  her  equerries,  should  do  the  'Squire  and  my- 
self credit  on  her  first  essay.  I  knew  I  might  rely  on  Spanish 
Jenny's  gentleness,  that  there  should  be  no  risk." 

"  You  were  very  good — very  thoughtful  and  considerate — I 
cannot  be  too  grateful  to  you,  Mr.  Worthington,"  said  Alien 
White,  with  one  of  her  softest  glances. 

"  Nay,  your  gratitude  is  solely  due  to  Spanish  Jenny,  who 
obeys  a  touch  with  the  docility  of '  Ambling  Lambkin,'  while  she 
retains  the  spirit  and  fire  of  her  Andalusian  origin." 

Miss  White  was  so  elated  with  her  equestrian  triumph,  that 
she  made  several  little  racing-matches  between  the  'Squire  and 
her.M  If,  calling  upon  Fermor  to  abet  and  aid  her,  that  she  might 
secure  more  conquests ;  but  he  told  her  that  since  she  had  so  in- 
ront.  stably  proved  her  competency,  her  own  skill  and  guidance 
were  in  future  sufficient. 

During  one  of  these  short  courses,  they  came  to  an  abrupt 

•it,  at  which  Miss  White  drew  back,  and  declared  she  should 

not  venture  such  an  exploit  on  her  first  day's  trial,  unl 

Mr.  Wnrthington  would  undertake  to  r.mduct  her,  and  guarantee 

ner  from  danger      Fennor  showing  no  disposition   to  do  cither 


206  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

the  one  or  the  other,  Cecil  said  :  "  You  should  volunteer  to  take 
charge  of  your  friend,  Kate ;  she  would  be  perfectly  safe  under 
your  wing.  You  have  nothing  to  do  but  take  her  under  it  and 
fly  down,  as  you  did  once  upon  a  time,  when  you  were  so  eaget 
to  recover  that  whip.  Do  you  remember  ?  " 

"  Once  for  all,  I  forbid  any  revival  of  my  scapegrace  folly  on 
that  occasion,  Cecil,  which  you  are  so  fond  of  reminding  me  of. 
Let  the  motto  be  '  Requiescat  in  pace  ;'  and  on  peril  of  my  dis- 
ileasure,  make  it  '  Resm ^amj  "  said  Kate,  with  the  same  flush 
m  her  cheeks  as  before. 

Fermor  had  noted  it  each  time,  and  had  observed,  too,  that 
it  was  evidently  in  connection  with  "  that  whip  "  which  he  had 
heard  the  'Squire  speak  of  as  having  been  brought  her  by  Cecil 
Lascelles.  He  had  neither  petty  curiosity,  nor  paltry  jealousy, 
where  his  friends  were  concerned ;  but  the  colour  in  Kate's  face 
struck  him  involuntarily. 

By  and  by,  as  the  riding  party  were  turning  homewards, 
the  'Squire,  Cecil,  and  Alicia  White,  chancing  to  be  a  little  in 
advance,  Fermor  Worthington  asked  Kate  playfully,  how  far 
she  had  taken  the  Iron  Cousin's  whip,  and  what  had  become 
of  it. 

She  answered  by  inquiring  how  long  he  had  kept  hers. 

<:  I  used  it  until  it  was  likely  to  be  spoiled,"  he  replied. 
"  The  fact  is,  it  was  too  slender  for  my  hand,  and  one  day  it  be- 
came injured,  so  I " 

"  So  you  very  wisely  threw  the  broken  thing  away,"  inter- 
rupted she.  "  Well,  yours  went  with  me  as  far  as  Florence, 
where  it  got  tossed  into  the  river  one  day,  as  a  good-for- 
nothing  worthless  concern  that  had  very  nearly  caused  some 
mischief." 

"  What  mischief,  Kate  ?  Was  it  too  heavy  for  you  ?  Did  it 
hurt  your  hand  ?  " 

"  No — yes  ; — yes,  it  occasioned  me  to  hurt  my  hand — that 
is, — what  does  it  signify  ?  It  got  flung  rnto  the  Arno,  and 
there's  an  end  of  it."  concluded  she,  as  she  rode  on  to  join  the 
others. 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  207 

"  Knte  will  not  hear  of  any  sky  but  an  Italian  one,  being 
woitli  looking  at,"  the  'Squire  was  saying,  as  she  came  up  ;  "  and 
yet,  fc  r  my  part,  I  confess,  I  think  there  is  much  to  be  said  on 
both  sides.  And  I'm  glad  to  find  you  think  HO,  too,  Cecil,  my 
boy." 

"  Can  Cecil  be  such  a  traitor  to  good  taste  as  to  allow  that 
anything  may  be  said  in  favour  of  an  English  sky  in  competition 
with  that  of  Italy  ?  ;>  said  Kate. 

"  Perhaps  something  might  be  alleged,  as  the  'Squire  says, 
1  on  both  sides,'  "  laughed  Cecil.  "  And  yet,  when  we  remember 
the  glorious  azure  serene  that  reigns  there  perpetually,  and 
think  of  what  we  have  to  bring  against  it,  the  task  of  saying  any- 
thing in  favour  of  our  own  'grey  vault'  seems  hopeless." 

"  Hopeless,  indeed  !  "  cried  Kate.  "  What !  compare  this 
f.alc,  dim,  speckled  canopy — scarcely  to  be  called  blue,  and  no* 
worthy  the  name  of  sky,  still  less,  of  heaven — with  that  grand 
deep  colour,  that  glow  of  sunlight,  that  constant  cloudless 
expanse,  in  which  everything  looks  doubly  clear  and  trebly 
fair  ?  " 

'•  Tt  is  that  very  constancy  of  blue  clearness,  which,  if  I  may 
venture  to  say  so,  makes  rather  against  it  with  me,"  said  the 
'S'|uiro.  "  Day  after  day  to  see  no  rain,  no  cloud,  no  shadow,  no 
hint  df  change  or  varying  weather,  becomes,  I  own,  a  little  tiro- 
H>mc  t<>  me,  after  a  time."  • 

"  True  British  taste,  dear  uncle  !  "  she  exclaimed.      "  I  used 
to  say.  that  when  there  was  such  a  thing,  by  a  wondrous  chance, 
iny  day  in  Florence,  we  were  sure  to  see  all  the  English 
people  out  of  doors,  umbrella  in  hand,  walking  happily  about, 
then  truly  enjoying  themselves,  and — the  weather.      They  felt 
at  homo — really  comfortable." 

"  But  you  know,  my  dear,  I  am  a  Briton, — a  true  Briton ; 
I'u'iitly  British   in  my  tastes.     And  I'm  afraid — no,  not 
afrui.l — l.pt,  I  think.  I  -hall  never  be  anything  else,"  replied  the 
're. 

"  Why  should  you,  my  dear  sir  ?  "  said  Fermor  Worth ington. 
4  Tho  taste  which  can  find  Hunctliing, — nay,  much, — 'to  admin 


SOS  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

in  our  island  sky,  is  not  a  taste  to  regret.  Is  there  nothing  in  % 
dappled  dawn,  flecked  with  light  touches  of  rose  and  gold  ?  Is 
there  nothing  in  a  fresh  dewy  day-spring,  with  fleecy  clouds  ten- 
derly veiling  the  coy  smiling  eyes  of  morn  ?  Is  there  nothing 
of  beauty  in  a  breezy,  bracing  forenoon,  with  its  winds  tossing 
and  bowing  the  heads  of  old  trees,  and  its  gentler  kiss  touching 
the  tops  of  grass  meadows  and  corn-fields,  transmuting  them  into 
waves  of  earth ;  while  mottled,  swift-gliding  clouds  sweep  athwart 
the  uplands,  with  passing  gloom,  to  make  all  seem  brighter  and 
cheerfuller  the  next  moment  ?  Surely,  there  is  something  to  be 
said  '  on  both  sides,'  'Squire ;  and  let  us  be  quite  certain  ours 
is  the  worst  side,  ere  we  give  it  up  too  lightly,  or  too  un- 
gratefully." 

"  Thank  you,  my  dear  boy,  for  finding  out  what  there  is  to 
say  on  our  side,  so  much  better  than  I  could  have  done,"  returned 
the  'Squire.  "  Well,  Kate,  what  think  you  now  ?  English  sky 
is  not  so  utterly  despicable,  after  all,  you  see  !  Is  there  not 
some  justice  in  what  Fermor  says  ?  " 

"  There  is  always  justice  in  what  the  Iron  Cousin  says,"  she 
replied,  laughing.  "  He  deals  in  justice  ;  he  abounds  in  justice. 
Justice  is  his  strength,  his  stronghold.  If  he  had  only  a  grail? 
more  just  and  reasonable  allowance  of  justice,  he  might  set  up 
for  a  Justice  of  the  Peace." 

"  !•  think  there's  not  only  a  great  deal  of  justice  in  what  Mr 
Worthington  has  just  said " 

"  Or  justly  said,"  interrupted  Kate. 

"  Has  just  now  said,  I  mean,"  continued  Miss  "White  ;  "  not 
only  much  justice,  but  much  beauty  of  description,  and  much 
truth." 

"  Truth  is  another  of  the  Iron  Cousin's  commodities.  He 
can  supply  you  with  any  amount,"  said  Kate. 

"  That  savours  of  manufactured  stuff, — forthcoming  on  de- 
mand," smiled  Fermor. 

"  Nay,  no  one  will  suspect  you  of  anything  but  the  plain, 
genuine,  unadulterated  article,"  she  returned.  "  Pure,  taste- 
less Truth,  straight  from  the  bottom  of  its  own  profound 
well." 


THE    IRON    COU8IV  20$ 

"  Tasteless,  but  not  distasteful,  I  hope,"  he  rejoined. 

"  ;  Tasteless  '  was  my  word  ;  and  tasteless  may  mean  unsa 
roury,  insipid,  unpalatable,  mawkish,  flavourless,  disrelishing 
and  distasteful, — or,  limpid,  clear,  transparently  devoid  of  all 
objectionable  and  offensive  matter, — whichever  sense  you  please 
to  affix  to  it,"  she  replied. 

"  Rather,  which  sense  it  is  your  pleasure  to  affix,  Kate," 
he  answered.  "  You  must  give  the  meaning  to  your  owi 
word." 

"  I  am  not  a  glossary,"  laughed  she. 

"  You  must  know  your  own  meaning,  then,"  said  Permor. 

"  That  I  do,  strange  to  say,  although  I  am  a  woman,"  she 
returned.  "  But  knowing  it,  and  giving  it,  are  two  ;  and  I  am 
not  aware  that  I  am  bound  to  do  either — for  all  your  stringent 
'  must ' — no  less  absolute  and  peremptory  than  Coriolanus's 
'  shrill.'  " 

••  Mr.  Worthington  is  very  forbearing,  to  suffer  you  to 
treat  him  in  that  unceremonious  style,  Kate,"  said  Alicia 
White. 

"  Oh,  we  made  a  compact  when  we  first  met,  as  boy  and  girl, 
to  banish  all  ceremony  between  us,"  replied  Kate.  "And  as  for 
4  suffering '  me  to  treat  him  as  I  please,  what  suffering  can  there 
be  to  an  Iron  Cousin  ?  Cuffs  and  thumps  would  make  no  im- 
pression. How  should  words  have  any  effect  ?  " 

'•  Words  sometimes  penetrate  and  wound,  where  blows  fail," 
smiled  Fermor.  "  A  box  of  the  ear  from  fair  lady's  hand,  might 
be  received  as  flattery  and  favour,  while  a  sharp  speech  from  her 
tongue  shall  pierce  like  barbed  arrow,  or  adder's  fork." 

"  To  deal  a  gentleman  a  box  on  the  ear,  or  to  make  him  a 
I>eech,  seems  almost  equally  unfitted  for  feminine  usage,  I 
think,"  said  Alicia  White. 

"  One  befits  her  hand,  the  other  the  mouth,  there's  all  the 
diffiT  .id  Kate. 

•  Are  they  befitting  cither,  or  befitting  at  all  ?"  asked  Fei* 
mor. 

44  Perhaps  not,"  she  replied,  laughing.     "  Hut  they  seem  mar- 


210  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

vellously  •  pat  to  each,  when  provocation  occurs.  All  I  bava 
therefore  to  do  is,  to  pray  heartily  against  temptation.  I  should 
be  sorely  grieved  to  find  myself  betrayed  into  such  a  position  as 
to  need  either,  in  good  earnest,  and  for  self-defence.  Attack  ia 
another  matter.  To  carry  rout  and  confusion  into  your  adversa- 
ry's camp,  when  he's  least  dreaming  of  assault,  is  glorious.  It 
leads  to  a  skirmish,  a  trial  of  arms,  a  skill-encounter — nothing 
more." 

"  A  mock-fight,  in  short ;  no  real  enmity,  eh,  Kate  ?  "  said 
Fermor. 

"  Exactly  so,"  she  replied. 

"  Well,"  said  Cecil  Lascelles,  as  the  party  drew  bridle  in 
front  of  the  old  Hall,  on  their  return,  "  Miss  White's  eulogium 
upon  your  Heathcote  trees,  'Squire,  led  me  to  expect  some  glo- 
rious specimens  of  English  Dryad  divinity  ;  but  this  first  intro- 
duction into  their  haunts,  makes  me  think  her  praise  cold,  and 
only  such  as  could  be  the  result  of  mortal  jealousy.  I  shall 
not  care  how  long  I  stay  here,  to  prove  her  wanting  in  due  pane- 
gyric upon  her  sister  beauties  of  the  woods." 

"  To-morrow,  we  will  take  you  a  still  finer  and  longer  ride, — 
over  to  Oakleigh  Hill,  my  boy,"  returned  the  'Squire.  "  From 
the  high  ground  there,  we  have  a  glorious  view  of  the  country, 
for  miles  in  extent." 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

BUT  to-morrow  ushered  in  other  plans,  and  other  thoughts. 
The  post-bag — always  appearing  during  the  morning  meal  at 
Heathcote  Hall  from  time  immemorial,  opened  then,  and  its  con- 
tents distributed  among  those  seated  around  the  breakfast-table, 
by  the  hand  of  the  master  of  the  house  himself, — brought  a  let- 
ter to  Cecil  Lascelles  from  his  mother. 

It  announced  that  Lady  Diana  Frcseley  had  died  quite  sud- 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  211 

denly  That,  contrary  to  all  expectation,  her  ladyship,  after 
wonderfully  rallying  since  a  recent  attack  of  illness,  had  had  a 
relapse,  which  carried  her  off  in  a  few  hours.  That  the  shock 
had  left  Mrs.  Lascelles  so  overwhelmed,  she  felt,  for  the  moment, 
incapable  of  thinking  or  acting,  and  begged  her  son  would  hasten 
to  her  without  delay. 

Cecil  lost  no  time  in  repairing  to  Cheltenham ;  but  he  found 
his  mother  already  much  restored  to  her  usual  self,  and  full  of 
fresh  plans. 

Her  whole  soul  was  wrapped  in  her  son,  Cecil ;  her  darling 
desire  was  to  promote  his  welfare, — that  is,  his  prosperity,  his 
fortunes,  his  position  in  the  world.  Her  life  was  devoted  to  this 
one  aim  ;  all  her  .faculties  were  knit  to  its  accomplishment.  Her 
thoughts,  night  and  day,  occupied  themselves  with  this  single 
idea,  to  the  exclusion  of  every  other ;  so  that  the  very  concentra- 
tion and  intensity  of  her  solicitude  defeated  its  own  object,  ren- 
dering her  unobservant  of  much  that  might  have  assisted  her  in 
her  design.  She  saw  nothing  that  militated  against  her  hopes, 
she  perceived  nothing  that  interfered  with  her  projects.  She  did 
not  even  see  clearly  the  end  itself;  for  in  believing  that  she  se- 
t-tin •<!  every  thing,  by  securing  Cecil's  prosperity,  she  made  the 
mistake  of  supposing  prosperity  all  in  all  with  him.  In  blindly 
pursuing  this  point  solely,  she  sacrificed  most  else, — and  far 
hitrher  than  itself.  She  lost  the  present  enjoyment  of  her  son's 
society,  engrossed  in  devices  for  his  future  benefit ;  she  neglected 
his  and  her  own  comfort,  and  their  content  in  mutual  association, 
their  intercourse  of  affection,  while  busied  in  weaving  and  follow- 
ing out  ambitious  schemes,  which,  if  realized,  would  not  procure 
that,  which  was  the  drift  of  all  her  plans,— his  happiness.  The 
confidence  between  mother  and  son,  that  Might  have  been  a 
of  enlightening  her  as  to  the  error  sh«  made,  was,  by  tho 
hsorl.nlnoss  ;unl  .MIL" -mess  of  her  pursuit,  1  from 

ac.|uiriuir  its  due  growth.  Cecil  knew  but  vaguely  of  his  mo- 
ther's plans  f..r  him:  llw,  instinctively  feeling  that  they  would 
train  but  little  comprehension  or  approval  from  one  of  his  frank 
nature  ;  and  he,  caring  little  for  them,  saving  as  they  amused 


212  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

and  interested  her.  She  had  set  her  heart  upon  obtaining  the 
large  sum,  which  her  maiden  aunt  had  to  bequeath,  for  Cecil ; 
but  Lady  Diana,  when  her  will  was  opened,  was  found  to  have 
left  the  whole  of  her  property  to  the  endowment  of  an  alms-house 
for  decayed  spinster  gentlewomen. 

This  defeat  of  one  of  her  favourite  schemes,  had  not  destroy 
ed  Mrs.  Lascelles'  faith  in  their  power  to  effect  her  object.  The 
first  blow  of  disappointment  over,  she  turned  her  thoughts  to  her 
other  cherished  project,  which  was  to  gain  her  brother  the  Earl 
of  Wrexham's  powerful  patronage  and  influence  on  Cecil's  behalf, 
in  procuring  him  a  lucrative  appointment  either  at  home  or 
abroad. 

Cecil  and  his  mother  quitted  Cheltenham  for  Castle  Wrex- 
ham  ;  the  young  man  writing  the  'Squire  word  not  to  be  surpris- 
ed if  he  saw  him  soon  back  again,  as  he  did  not  intend  giving  up 
his  promised  summer  holiday  at  Heathcote.  About  the  same 
period,  Alicia  White  was  summoned  home  by  her  parents,  to  re- 
ceive her  godmother,  Lady  Niggle,  who  had  come  rather  unex- 
pectedly to  spend  a  week  or  two  at  Eggharn  Park,  although  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  White  promised  the  'Squire  in  their  letter,  that  their 
daughter  should  return  to  Heathcote  Hall  and  complete  her 
visit,  so  soon  as  the  venerable  lady  should  have  taken  her  de- 
parture. 

Thus  left  alone,  the  uncle  and  niece  fell  into  their  old  home 
habits.  They  once  more  rambled  abroad  on  horseback  together 
the  principal  part  of  the  day,  or  the  'Squire  rode  out  with  his 
brother  sportsmen,  while  Kate  pursued  her  own  devices  at  home. 
She  no  longer  felt  the  time  hang  wearisomely  or  monotonously ; 
there  was  now  no  want  of  intellectual  resource  in  her  existence. 
She  had  acquired  a  thirst  for  learning,  and  knew  the  sweet  delights 
of  its  deep  refreshing  draughts,  of  its  pure  full  enjoyment.  She 
had  learned  the  infinite  joys  to  be  derived  from  a  loving  worship 
of  art,  and  the  pleasures  of  its  assiduous  study.  Mrs.  Lindon's 
patient,  careful  teaching,  less  conveyed  by  set  precept  than  by 
earnest  inculcation  and  inducement,  with  enthusiastic  example,  had 
produced  its  impression;  had  prepared  her  mind  to  seek  its  own 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  21fc 

aliment,  ana  had  inspired  the  desire  of  self-culture.  She  was  no 
sooner  at  leisure  to  follow  her  own  inclinations  undisturbed,  than 
she  gave  herself  up  to  the  luxury  of  solitary  diligence, — that  pro- 
found source  of  pleasure  to  the  genuine  lover  of  knowledge.  No 
one  but  the  true  searcher  after  its  stores,  the  ardent  reader,  can 
understand  the  delight  with  which  she  shut  herself  into  the  well- 
611cd  library,  secure  for  many  hours  of  uniuvaded  quiet.  No  on« 
but  the  devoted  worshipper  of  art,  who  knows  how  humblest  at- 
tempt  at  labouring  in  the  practical  portion  of  the  glorious  mystery, 
is  sought  as  a  means  of  raising  the  mind  to  a  fuller  comprehen- 
sion of  its  pc-rfectiou,  can  appreciate  the  happiness  with  which 
Kate  set  about  constructing  a  little  den  of  her  own.  where  she 
might  copy,  and  sketch,  and  daub,  and  rub  out,  and  dab  in,  and 
paint,  and  repaint,  to  her  heart's  content,  for  a  whole  morning, 
without  chance  of  interruption.  There  was  a  small  room  at  the 
tup  of  the  house,  remote  from  the  resort  of  servants, — in  a  range 
of  apartments  little  used  save  as  lumber-rooms,  filled  with  odds 
and  ends  of  discarded  furniture,  and  despised  old  pictures — which 
commanded  an  extensive  view  of  the  fine  park,  its  trees,  its  green 
glades,  its  noble  avenue.  In  this  little  room  Kate  took  up  her 
quarters,  as  her  own  especial  studio  and  painting-den.  She  brought 
thwre  her  brushes,  paints,  palettes,  portfolios,  crayons,  water-col- 
•>urs,  and  all  the  hundred-hued  materials,  that  seem  so  insignifi- 
cant to  others,  so  invaluable  to  the  artist.  Among  the  old  pictures 
that  had  so  long  mouldered  in  dusty  disgrace  and  obscurity  here, 
she  chose  out  a  few  that  she  found  something  to  like  in  ;  and  these 
she  huiiL'  up,  1 1 Aether  with  some  of  her  own  favourite  sketches, 
reminiscences  of  those  pictures  in  Italy  she  had  best  ad- 
mired, and  of  which  ever  so  faint  and  distant  a  trace  was  some- 
thing to  possess.  She  would  have  liked  to  have  brought  h< 
other  chattel  of  hers,  but  there  was  no  room  for  it  Thij  was  an 
old  harpsicord,  which  she  had  discovered  in  some  out-of-the-way 
corner  of  the  house,  and  which,  upon  her  return  from  abroad,  she* 
bad  bcirged  her  nude  to  have  put  in  order  and  tuned  for  her. 
H<,\v,  ild  not,  by  any  contrivance,  get 

•pace  I'T  it  in  IKT  •!•  .1   it  carried   into  her  own  <1 


214  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

room,  which  chanced  to  be  in  a  thick-walled  angle  of  the  old  house 
from  whence  no  sound  could  be  distinguished,  and  where  she  felt 
she  could  thrum  and  warble  away  without  a  soul  being  the  wiser. 
In  one  or  other  of  these  three  secluded  nooks,  Kate  would  en- 
sconce herself,  whenever  she  felt  secure  of  her  uncle's  absence,  for 
the  best  part  of  a  day.  But  she  never  indulged  in  their  absorbing 
delights,  so  long  as  there  was  a  chance  of  his  requiring  her  com- 
panionship. Once  or  twice  that  he  had  found  her  in  the  library, 
Jost  in  some  favourite  volume,  he  had  pished  and  pshawed,  mut- 
tered an  angry  "  Those  confounded  books ! "  or  looked  so  involun- 
tarily chagrined  and  disconcerted,  while  he  strove  to  repress  the 
tokens  of  his  disappointment,  that  she  resolved  never  to  risk  let- 
ting them  interfere  with  his  comforts,  his  pleasure  in  her  society. 
She  took  care  so  to  time  her  pursuits,  that  she  was  always  ready 
to  ride,  or  walk,  or  sit  with  him ;  and  only  prosecuted  her  happy 
self-teaching  when  perfectly  sure  that  he  was  engaged  elsewhere, 
and  could  not  need  her.  This  unselfish  proceeding,  like  all  un- 
selfishness, brought  its  own  reward.  She  enjoyed  her  liberty  none 
the  less  for  having  earned  it  by  generosity  and  self-denial;  while 
its  rarity,  and  snatched  joy,  enhanced  its  sweetness  and  relish. 

One  morning  that  her  uncle  had  ridden  over  to  see  a  neighbour 
at  some  few  miles  distance,  she  was  comfortably  shut  in  her  den , 
and  giving  herself  up  to  the  thorough  anticipation  of  an  unbroken 
forenoon,  had  become  engrossed  with  a  copy  she  was  attempting 
of  Correggio's  Mother  and  Child  in  the  Florence  Tribune,  by  the 
help  of  an  engraving  and  her  own  memory  of  the  original.  As 
she  worked  on,  the  colours  seemed  to  glow  upon  the  print,  so  viv- 
idly did  she  recall  them ;  so  perfectly  did  she  behold  that  gentle 
rapturous  face,  that  bending  form,  those  playful,  loving  hands. 
clapping  a  soft  merriment  for  the  gladding  of  the  up-turned  baby 
eyes.  She  was  so  immersed  in  her  recollections,  and  so  intent 
upon  the  endeavour  to  transfer  them  upon  the  canvas,  that  she  did 
not  hear  a  quick  firm  step  which  approached  through  the  range  of 
deserted  rooms.  It  was  only  the  opening  of  the  door  which  caus- 
ed her  to  look  up  and  behold  Fermor  "Worthington. 

She  started,  and  coloured  with  mingled  surprise  and  vexa- 
tion. 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  215 

"  How  came  you  hither  ?  How  came  they  to  let  you  find  your 
way  here?  My  uncle  is  out, — they  have  orders  to  show  visitors 
into  the  sitting-room,"  she  said,  rising  precipitately. 

"  But  I  am  not  a  visitor,  Kate,"  smiled  Fermor.  "  I  have 
long  been  accustomed  to  the  privilege  of  dispensing  with  the  cere- 
mony of  being  announced ;  and  find  my  way  about  the  house, 
wherever  you  and  the  'Squire  may  chance  to  be." 

"  Not  here,  not  here — no  one  comes  here,"  she  said  hastily. 

"  Why  not  here  ?  It  is  not  a  Blue  Beard  chamber,  is  it  ?  " 
said  Fermor,  looking  round. 

"  No  one  comes  here  without  my  knowledge, — without  my  per- 
mission," she  returned,  biting  her  lip. 

"  Then  give  me  your  permission  now,"  he  said. 

"  And  why,  pray  ?  Why  should  I  make  an  exception  in  your 
favour  ?  I  allow  no  one  to  come  here — not  even  Matty.  Nobody 
ventures  to  invade  my  den." 

"  But  since  I  have  dared  its  terrors,  and  sought  you  in  it,  will 
you  not  grant  me  the  reward  of  my  courage  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Courage  of  impudence — of  audacity — of " 

"  Of  boldness,"  he  said.  "  I  boldly  made  my  way  to  your 
retreat,  and  deserve  right  of  entrance  for  my  pains." 

"  Or  rather,  exclusion  in  return  for  intrusion,"  she  replied. 

"  '  Intrusion,'  Kate  !     But  you  are  not  serious  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  that ;  I  am  quite  serious  in  disliking  to  be  bro- 
ken in  upon  when  I  mean  to  be  alone.  Uncle  is  gone  out,  and  I 
had  fully  intended  to  indulge  in  a  quiet  morning  by  myself,"  she 
returned. 

"  A  tolerably  broad  hint  for  a  visitor,"  laughed  Fermor ;  "  but 
I  have  claimed  to  be  none,  therefore  I  must  brook  the  freedom 
which  is  reserved  for  intimates.  I  suppose  I  ought  to  take  that 
as  a  plain,  straightforward  dismissal ;  but  if  you  have  made  up 
your  mind  for  a  quiet  morning  at  home  by  yourself,  I  have  equal* 
ly  made  up  mine  for  a  pleasant  morning  at  Ileathcotc;  and  it  ia 
now  merely  a  question  whether  you  or  I  are  to  give  up  our 
wish." 

"  Oh,  of  course,  the  Iron  Cousin's  will  is  to  carry  tin-  day  ;  it 


a  10  TUB    IRON    COUSIN. 

always  does  prevail, — it  always  is  to  prevail ;  all  other  things  are 
bound  to  submit  to  its  domination,  now,  and  henceforth." 

"  May  you  be  a  true  prophetess,  Kate,  so  long  as  it  shall  not 
be  unreasonable  or  unjust  in  its  domination." 

"  So  long  as  its  domination  does  not  exceed  reason,  you  mean : 
agreed,"  she  replied. 

"  And  now  tell  me  why  you  deem  it  reasonable  or  needful,  to 
guard  your  den,  as  you  call  it,  so  jealously,"  said  Fermor.  ''One 
would  think  it  were  a  witch's  cave,  a  wizard's  cell,  some  dire  scene 
for  '  a  deed  without  a  name,'  instead  of  a  pleasant,  cheerful  little 
snuggery.  You  looked  as  though  you  had  been  caught  in  some 
unholy  act,  some  unlawful  pursuit;  whereas  I  can  see  nothing 
more  fatal  than  a  few  sketches,  crayons,  and  colours — no  very 
deadly  implements." 

"  You  forget  that  a  snuggery  implies  peace,  seclusion,  retire- 
ment ;  not  liability  to — to — intrusion,"  she  said. 

"  '  Intrusion  '  again,  Kate  !  Tell  me  frankly,  and  in  so  many 
words,  that  I  indeed  intrude,  and  I  am  gone." 

"  Tell  me  first  your  candid  interpretation  of  the  word  '  snug- 
gery,' "  she  answered. 

"  A  snuggery  is  a  good  place  for  one  who  wants  to  sulk  in  com- 
fort; but  a  better  for  two,  who  wish  to  be  happily  sociable,"  re- 
turned Fermor. 

"  Come,  your  definition  shall  procure  you  what  your  pleaded 
boldness  could  not,"  said  Kate. 

"Right  of  entrance;  that  was  what  I  claimed  as  the  recom- 
pense of  my  courage  in  seeking  you  out,  and  invading  your  quiet 
territory.  Let  me  share  it  with  you,  and  enjoy  some  of  its  tran- 
quil beauties.  What  a  grand  view  it  commands  !  The  win- 
dows below  have  nothing  comparable  with  this  !  " 

He  stood  gazing  out  for  a  few  minutes,  in  mute  enjoyment  of 
the  fine  natural  picture,  and  then  he  turned  to  the  one  upon  the 
easel. 

"  Ah,  when  you  think  of  the  original,  how  cold,  how  poor  it 
seems  !  How  presumptuous  the  bare  attempt  to  retrace  it  in  the 
same  materials  !  Almost  better  to  content  oneself  with  the  iin- 


run  IRON  COUSIN.  217 

prcssion  that  is  painted  on  the  memory! "  said  Kate,  as  she  saw 
his  eyes  fall  upon  the  Correggio  sketch.  Never  had  her  efforts 
appeared  to  her  so  bald,  so  wretchedly  short-coming. 

-  No  attempt  deserves  the  name  of  presumption  that  is  made 
in  the  spirit  of  loving  admiration,  and  modest  faithful  endeavour," 
said  Fermor  ;  "  it  is  only  one  form — and  perhaps  the  most  fer- 
vent form — of  homage.  It  is  a  voluntary  submission  to  the  chance 
of  failure,  for  the  sake  of  proving  to  our  utmost  the  sincerity  of 
the  worship  that  is  in  us." 

"  The  disgrace  of  failure  is  certainly  one  of  the  cruellest  mor- 
tifications our  humility  could  devise  aa  its  test,"  she  rejoined. 

"  It  is  scarce  disgrace  to  fail  in  such  high-reaching  endeavours ; 
better  to  fail  in  a  noble  ambition  than  triumph  in  a  paltry  aim," 
he  said. 

"  Better  to  fail  copying  Correggio,  you  mean,  than  succeed  in 
rendering  correctly  a  miserable  daub  ?  "  said  Kate,  as  she  looked 
ruefully  at  her  morning's  work. 

"  I  do,"  he  returned.     "  In  the  one,  there  may  be  imperfec- 
tion, insufficient  power,  inadequate  performance ;    but  there  is, 
through  all,  recognizable  the  wish  to  reproduce  excellence,  the 
to  represent  what  the  soul  acknowledges  to  be  beauty  :  in 
the  other,  there  is  nothing  but  sorry  mediocrity  throughout." 

"  What  else,  alas  !  but  imperfection,  insufficient  power,  inad- 
(••ju:ite  performance  is  there  in  all  here?  "said  Kate,  with  the 
same  expression  in  her  eye,  as  she  glanced  at  all  the  sketches  ly- 
ing about,  and  hung  around  ;  "  after  all,  it  is  woful  loss  of  time ; 
but  it  is  pleasant,  too,"  she  added,  half  sadly,  half  laughingly. 

"  To  be  sure  it  is  pleasant ;  and  no  loss  of  time,  if  it  be  but 
to  essay  our  patience  and  fortitude  in  bearing  the  discovery  that 
our  skill  is  less  than  our  poetry  of  imagination  mod  conception. 
But  you  say,  what  is  there  here  other  than  imperfection,  insuffi- 
ciency, inadequacy  ?  I  sec  much  of  industry ;  vigorous,  hearty 
endeavour,  and"  true  feeling :  rough,  unequal  they  may  be — pro- 
mises of  future  improvement,  perhaps,  rather  than  actually  good 
performances — but  still  worth  something,  as  proof  of  mcritoriou*. 
honourable,  strenuous  attempt." 
10 


218  THE    IRON    COUSIX. 

He  had  taken  up  one  of  the  sketches  that  lay  there,  and 
held  it  in  his  hand  as  he  spoke,  and  surveyed  the  rest  between 
whiles. 

" '  Worth  something  as  trials  of  temper,  and  evidences  of 
diligence  ;  a  kind  of  moral  lesson  in  daubery,"  she  said,  laughing 
a  little  bitterly.  "  Very  praiseworthy  painting ;  highly  laudable 
limning.  This  is  a  most  consoling  view  of  Artolatry.  Quite  an 
iron-cousin  view  of  the  subject." 

"  What  so  enhances  the  delight  of  intellectual  enjoyments  as 
associating  a  moral  purpose  with  their  pursuit  ?  "  he  returned. 
"  If,  while  correcting  and  improving  our  draughtsmanship,  we  can 
at  the  same  time  correct  and  improve  our  dispositions,  is  it  not  a 
double  gain  ?  If,  while  learning  to  estimate,  and  endeavouring  to 
imitate,  the  choice  execution  and  rare  artistic  beauty  of  a  picture, 
we  also  elevate  our  natures,  with  the  contemplation  and  compre- 
hension of  still  nobler  and  higher  things  to  be  discerned  in  the 
compositions  of  the  great  masters,  are  we  not  wisely  uniting  spir- 
itual with  intelligential  culture  ?  In  the  attempt  to  put  down 
and  trace  out  our  own  ideas,  too,  there  may  be  scope  for  feeling 
and  sentiment,  no  less  than  mere  thought  of  lines  and  colours,  or 
the  testing  our  powers  of  original  invention.  In  this  little  sketch, 
for  instance — slight  and  hasty  as  it  is — there  is  evidence  of  fan- 
cy, and  taste,  with  a  keen  eye  for  nature  and  truth,  guided  as 
much  by  likiug  as  perception." 

"  What  have  you  there  ?  "  she  said,  looking  over  his  shoulder 
at  the  sketch  he  held,  and  examined  with  much  interest. 

"  It  contains  an  admirable  likeness  of  your  uncle,  notwith- 
standing the  figure  is  so  lightly  dashed  in  ;  it  is  a  spirited  draw- 
ing altogether,  though  so  mere  a  sketch,"  replied  Fermor,  contin- 
uing to  gaze  upon  it. 

".Ah,  I  remember  !  "  she  said,  as  she  stood  beside  him,  lost 
in  thought,  her  eyes  fixed  upon  the  picture. 

It  was  a  small  chalk  drawing,  with  a  few  touches  of  colour ; 
but  the  whole  effect  was  vivid  and  graphic.  The  'Squire's  figure 
was — as  Fermor  Worthington  said — most  strikingly  rendered. 
The  grey  head ;  the  florid,  healthful  cheek ;  the  simple,  good- 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  219 

hearted  expression  ;  the  hardy  and  vigorous,  yet  gentlemanly—- 
because perfectly  easy  and  natural — bearing  of  the  whole  frame, 
were  precisely  given.  Opposite  to  him  sat  Cecil  Lascelles — hi& 
frank,  open  countenance  hardly  less  unmistakeably  depicted  than 
the  'Squire's ;  while  both  were  represented  engaged  in  a  game  of 
Near  to  them  sat  a  female  figure,  in  whose  placid  look,  and 
tranijuil  attitude,  bending  over  some  needle-work,  Fermor  had  no 
difficulty  in  recognizing  Mrs.  Lindon.  Immediately  behind  her 
uncle  was  Kate  herself,  half  reclined  upon  a  couch,  her  face  turn- 
ed towards  a  raised  sunblind,  which  gave  a  glimpse  of  a  glowing 
outdoor  landscape. 

Now,  as  she  stood  there,  looking  upon  the  miniature  transcript 
of  a  scene  so  well  remembered,  Kate  Ireton  gave  herself  up  to 
the  luxurious  memories  it  awakened ;  her  imagination  busily  em- 
ploying itself  in  re-tracing  every  particular  of  that  enchanting  spot. 
Again  she  saw  the  clustering  vines,  with  the  golden  light  stream- 
ing through  them  ;  the  brilliant  green  of  the  rich-tufted  orange- 
trees  ;  the  mellow  silvery  hue  of  olives  ;  the  glorious  over-arch- 
ing blue  of  the  sky,  embracing  all  with  its  celestial  span.  As 
Fermor  and  she  hung  over  the  drawing,  close  together,  his  breath 
almost  felt  among  the  hair  that  veiled  her  cheek,  Kate  yielded  to 
a  sense  of  deep  unaccountable  pleasure  that  stole  over  her ;  an 
emotion  of  gentle,  happy,  inward  delight,  such  as  she  had  never 
before  experienced.  It  seemed  to  pervade  her  entire  being,  and 
hold  her  there  entranced. 

Unconsciously  she  submitted  to  the  spell  for  some  moments, 
then  she  suddenly  drew  away,  saying  in  a  soft  undertone:  "Beau- 
tiful, beautiful  Italy." 

She  stood  at  the  window,  looking  out;  when  Fermor  Worth- 
in.L't.m  said  :  '•  You  have  a  very  fond  feeling  towards  Italy.  Kate." 

"  Very  ! "  she  exclaimed,  with  fervour. 

"  Come  and  road  me  this  Italian  picture,"  he  said. 

'•  Cannot  you  read  it  V  '  she  returned. 

"  I  understand  its  characters — I  must  be  dull,  indeed,  not  to 
distin-'uish  those  at  once:  but  I  should  like  to  know  their  mean* 

o 

ing — tho  history  they  make." 


220  T11E   IRON    COUSIN. 

"  A  picture  is  worth  nothing  if  it  do  not  tell  its  own  story,' 
she  replied.  "  Come,  we  have  had  enough  of  pictorial  studies, 
let  us  take  a  ride  this  fine  morning.  'Tis  an  affront  to  English 
May  to  slight  her  rare  smiles  of  warmth  and  sunshine.  Where 
shall  we  go  ?  " 

"  Wherever  you  please.  But,  first,  let  me  make  out  all  I  can 
of  the  drawing  that  most  pleases  me  here,"  he  said,  still  looking 
earnestly  at  it.  "  It  is  really  a  beautiful  sketch.  It  tells  its  own 
tale  clearly  enough  ;  I  know  not'  why  I  should  ask  further  expla- 
nation." 

Yet  still  he  lingered. 

"  Kate,  come  and  tell  me  what  you  intended  by  this,"  pres- 
ently he  said. 

"Not  I,"  she  replied.  "  If  you  are  willing  to  ride  with  me, 
well;  if  not,  I  leave  you  to  the  undisturbed  enjoyment  of  the 
den." 

"  Nay,  I  have  no  such  exclusive  fancy  for  it,"  said  Fermor, 
following  her  at  once  from  the  room  ;  "  it  is  you,  Kate,  who  have 
a  churlish  taste  for  having  it  all  to  yourself." 

"  And  this  is  my  reward  for  letting  you  stay  here  so  long," 
she  returned.  "  But  have  a  care  ho\r  you  trespass  again.  Since 
reproach  is  all  I  gain  by  my  foolish  sufferance  I  shall  bolt  the 
Iron  Cousin  out  next  time  he  attempts  to  invade  my  snuggery, 
and  be  rock  to  his  entreaties." 

"  Iron  shall  prevail  against  stone  or  flint,"  smiled  Fermor. 

u  Adamant  is  harder  than  iron,"  retorted  Kate. 

"Beware  I  do  not  answer,  in  words  I  have  met  with  some- 
where or  other :  'You  draw  me,  you  hard-hearted  adamant,  but 
yet  you  draw  not  iron,'  "  said  Fermor,  laughing.  "  The  Iron 
Cousin  may  determine  to  resist  the  attraction,  and  stay  away  from 
the  den  and  its  adamantine  occupant  altogether." 

"  That  would  be  just  what  I  desire,"  she  replied;  "  and  thus 
E  obtain  my  wish  of  keeping  all  intruders  away.  But  now,  once 
more,  which  way  shall  we  go  ?  " 

"Let  the  horses  decide,"  said  Fermor;  "  we  will  leave  it  tc 
their  discrimination  to  guide  us ;  they  can  scarcely  lead  amiss, 
where  all  is  so  choicely  beautiful." 


THE    IKON    COUSIN.  221 

"  1  asked  you  to  select  our  ride ;  don't  show  yourself  less  ca- 
pable of  decision  than  a  horse,  lest  I  think  you — lest  you  prove 
yourself  an  inferior  animal,"  said  Kate. 

"  An  ass  ?  "  laughed  Fermor. 

"  Nay,  I  give  you  the  whole  range  of  inferior  creation  to  ap- 
point your  own  class  from  among ;  and  meanwhile  repeat  my  re- 
quest that  you  will  determine  the  course  of  our  ride." 

"  Then,  if  TOU  have  no  objection,  we  will  let  it  be  towards 
the  village,"  he  replied.  "  Sir  Dullarton  Ditchley  begged  me, 
the  first  time  I  should  be  passing  in  that  neighbourhood,  to  call 
and  pay  his  subscription  to  the  National  School-house,  which  has 
lately  been  established  there  ;  and  I  shall  be  glad  of  the  oppor 
tunity  to  accomplish  my  commission." 

"  And,  pray,  why  does  the  lord  of  Ditchley  manor  depute 
you  to  perform  his  errands  ?  "  said  Kate,  somewhat  haughtily. 
"  The  master  of  "Worthington  Court  should  needs  be  too  proud 
to  execute  any  man's  behests  when  they  can  be  done  as  well  by 
himself." 

"  But  this  is  not  the  case,"  said  Fermor.  "  He  cannot  leave 
his  own  house.  He  is  laid  up  with  the  gout,  and  all  but  bed- 
ridden ;  therefore,  I  have  undertaken  to  see  his  charitable  desire 
carried  out  for  him.  Poor  man  !  He  has  few  pleasant  thoughta 
to  keep  him  company  in  his  illness ;  his  squandered  life  has  left 
him  scarce  any.  I  am  glad  to  help  him  to  a  wholesome  pleasure 
-or  two;  and  the  notion  that  he  may  lay  out  some  of  his  super- 
fluous pounds  in  the  forwarding  a  good  cause,  has  proved  a  for- 
tunate suggestion.  He  is  as  pleased  as  a  child,  with  his  new 
fancy  for  playing  the  patron  and  benefactor.  Better  that  than 
playing  the  fool — betting,  jockeying,  ducking-and-draking  hi« 
money  on  the  turf  or  at  the  gaming-table." 

"  And  you  are  accepting  the  part  of  Mentor  to  this  venerable 
Ti  I'Miiaclins  ?  Forming  his  youth — or  reforming  his  age,"  re- 
mtirkfil  Kate. 

"  Helping  an  old  friend  of  my  father's  to  a  few  wise  and  use- 
ful deeds,  which  may  replace  for  him  his  uncomfortable  rcflectioni 
on  past,  less  fruitful  ones,"  said  Fermor. 


222  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

Kate  knew  by  experience  that  when  Ferraor  Worthington 
used  his  father's  name,  it  was  no  time  for  her  to  persist  in  a 
light, — far  less,  a  disrespectful  tone.  She  forebore,  therefore, 
and  held  her  peace  ;  and  they  rode  on  for  some  time  in  silence. 


"  AND  a  »  you  are  actually  taking  me  to  school,  after  having  so 
long  beei  in  the  habit  of  schooling  me  yourself?"  said  Kate,  as 
they  approached  a  small  plain  building,  lately  erected  at  the 
entrance  of  the  village.  "  It  looks  like  a  Methodist  meeting, 
quite  ugly  enough  to  suit  those  who  think  beauty  an  offence  to 
Heaven." 

"  It  has  been  built  at  the  very  least  cost  consistent  with 
actual  usefulness  and  solidity,"  replied  Fermor.  "  The  object 
wan  to  have  a  weather-proof  room,  capable  of  holding  as  many 
of  the  poor  children  hereabouts,  as  had  parents  anxious  to  give 
them  that  education  which  they  themselves  could  not  afford  to 
provide.  It  is  suited  to  its  purpose ;  convenient,  sufficiently 
spacious,  airy,  and  clean." 

"  Do  you  call  this  place  airy,  clean,  convenient,  sufficiently 
spacious  ?  "  whispered  Kate  to  Fermor,  as  they  found  themselves  , 
in  the  closely-packed  school-room,  thronging  with  ranges  of  up- 
turned faces  that  curiously  scanned  the  visitors,  and  ringing  with 
the  hum  of  voices  conning  or  repeating  lessons ;  "  I  should  have 
thought  it  a  stifling,  noisy,  bewildering  hole — full  of  the  reek  of 
many  breaths,  the  effluvia  of  stuff  frocks,  the  aroma  of  checked 
aprons,  coarse  linen  caps  and  tippets,  book-bags,  dinner-bags, 
straw  bonnets,  leather  shoes,  and  woollen  mittens  !  In  short, 
that  delectable,  conglomerated  perfume,  known  expressively  as 
4  a  poor  smell.'  " 

Kate  involuntarily  put  her  handkerchief  to  her  mouth,  to 
escape  inhaling  the  atmosphere  which  struck  her  senses  so  op 
pressivcly,  coming  from  the  pure  outer  air. 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  223 

"  Do  not  hurt  their  feelings,  Kate.  Control  your  disgust, 
while  you  stay  ;  it  will  not  be  long,"  said  Fermor,  ns  they  waited 
until  the  head-mistress,  or  monitress,  as  she  was  called,  should 
be  ready  to  attend  him.  This  monitress  was  a  sour-looking, 
unrelentingly-orderly  sort  of  woman,  who  seemed  as  if  determined 
to  show  her  independence  of  the  gentlefolks,  and  to  make  their 
leisure  attend  upon  her  duty.  She  seemed  intent  upon  making 
a  parade  of  her  duty ;  of  showing  how  paramount  it  was  with 
her  to  every  other  consideration.  She  seemed  to  take  a  pleasure 
in  keeping  them  standing  there,  in  the  entrance,  waiting,  until 
she  should  have  fully  despatched  the  task  she  had  in  hand. 

"  What  an  odious,  lemon-faced  woman  that  is  ! "  said  Kate. 
"  Her  aspect  is  enough  to  curdle  what  milk  lingers  on  the  lips 
of  these  youngest  chits,  who  seem  scarce  more  than  babies,  some 
of  them,  poor  little  wretches  !  I  suppose  this  is  an  Infant  School, 
as  well  as  National  School  ?  " 

"  They  refuse  none  here,  however  young,  whose  mothers  can 
neither  keep  nursemaids,  nor  afford  to  play  nursemaid  them- 
selves," replied  Fermor  Worthington.  "  If  that  woman's  look 
be  tart  enough  to  turn  a  whole  tribe  of  little  whey-faces,  yonder 
meek  girl  is  so  sweet-looking  as  to  sugar  the  most  acid  draught 
of  rebuke,  and  soften  the  bitterest  task,  the  other  could  inflict  or 
impose." 

"  You  call  her  sweet-looking  !  "  exclaimed  Kate,  still  in  the 
lowered  tone  in  which  the  whole  colloquy  between  the  cousins 
had  proceeded ;  though  the  busy  hum  that  prevailed  sufficiently 
drowned  what  they  said.  "  Why,  she  is  as  pale  as  a  ghost ;  she 
has  dark  rings  round  her  eyes ;  she  stoops,  and  one  shoulder  is 
higher  than  the  other." 

"  I  am  speaking  of  the  expression  of  her  face,"  replied  Fer- 
mor. "  It  is  positively  beautiful.  So  mild,  so  gentle,  BO  touch- 
innly  and  truly  good." 

11 1  see  nothing  beautiful  in  her,"  retorted  Kate,  putting  up 
her  .ip.     '•  If  I  spoke  the  honest  truth— which  I  generally  do— 
I  should  say  sho  is  more  than  plain  ;  ugly,  absolutely  ugly 
is  all  but  deformed  ;  and  her  face  has  that  sickly,  drawn  look, 


224  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

which  spoils  the  best  set  of  features,  were  her's  ever  &o  fine,— 
which  they  are  not." 

"  No,  the  features — the  complexion — are,  as  you  say,  faulty  ; 
but  I  maintain,  that  the  expression  is  one  of  the  very  loveliest 
I  ever  saw,"  said  Fermor,  looking  earnestly  at  the  young  girl, 
who  was  leaning  over  one  of  the  children  that  stood  at  her  knee 
and  patiently  trying  to  make  it  understand  something  she  was 
explaining  ;  "  it  has  the  soft,  absorbed  gaze,  the  tender  sweetness 
and  devotion,  with  self-abnegation  and  self-unconsciousness  of 
one  of  Raffaelle's  Saints,  or  Virgin-mothers." 

"  I  can  see  nothing  beyond  a  quiet,  common-place-looking 
English  girl,  for  my  part,"  said  Kate.  "  Who  is  she  ?  " 

"  The  sub-monitress,  I  believe,"  answered  Fermor.  "  She 
seems  as  admirably  suited  to  her  office,  as  that  harsh,  morose- 
looking  '  lemon-face'  is  unfit.  When  will  she  condescend  to 
come  and  receive  the  amount  I  have  to  pay  over  to  her,  I  won- 
der ?  "  added  he,  as  he  took  out  his  purse.  "  Go,  my  dear,"  he 
continued,  to  one  of  the  nearest  children ;  "  go  and  tell  your 
schoolmistress  that  there  is  a  gentleman  who  wishes  to  speak  to 
her,  and  pay  some  money  into  her  hands." 

"  So  you  have  actually  adopted  the  '  grum  brown,'  "  said 
Kate,  laughing,  as  she  chanced  to  observe  the  purse  Fermor 
held.  "  That  is  carrying  pertinacity  to  a  pitch  of  which  I  did 
not  think  even  the  Iron  Cousin  capable  !  Because,  forsooth,  you 
insisted  upon  having  it,  and  making  me  stitch  it  up  for  you, 
you  go  about  with  a  shabby  old  purse,  fit  for  no  gentleman's 
wear." 

"  I  do  not  use  it  upon  ordinary  occasions ;  I  have  a  decent, 
proper  one — new  and  handsome — for  every-day  wear.  But  I  put 
what  gold  I  want  for  especial  purposes  into  this  one,"  laughed 
Fermor.  "  I  have  faith  in  your  lucky  star,  Kate.  I  look  upon 
you  as  a  spoiled  child  of  Fate,  a  favourite  of  Fortune  ;  and  there- 
tore,  any  sums  I  want  to  bring  a  blessing,  or  good-luck,  I  always 
keep  in  the  'grum  brown.' — I  call  it  ray  lucky  purse." 

"  Lucky  !  "  she  echoed.  "  Can  the  Iron  Cousin  give  way  to 
superstitious  fancies  ?  " 


THE    IRON    COT  SIN.  225 

"  Every  one  has  a  secret  corner  of  superstition,"  smiied  Fer- 
mor.  "  The  wisest,  the  strongest-minded,  the  most  sensible 
among  us  all,  would  we  but  confess  it,  are  conscious  of  some  point 
on  which  we  are  superstitious.  Not  a  human  being  but  has  his 
or  her  pet  superstition,  depend  upon  it,  Kate." 

"  Unless  they  have  neither  imagination  nor  candour,"  she  re- 
turned ;  "  yet  without  the  latter,  the  superstition  may  exist, 
lurking  cherished,  for  all  it  be  unowned.  I  believe  you  are 
right.  But  here  comes  Mistress  Verjuice  Lemon  face;  I  leave 
you  to  settle  accounts  with  her,  and  take  my  own  leave  to  make 
my  escape  into  the  fresh  air.  I'll  wait  in  the  porch,  until  you 
join  me.  This  stifling  place,  and  that  countenance  close  to  me 
both  at  once,  would  be  too  much  for  my  powers  of  endurance." 

As  Kate  stood  outside,  patting  White  Bess,  and  feeding  it 
with  handfuls  of  grass,  until  Fermor  Wortbington  should  come, 
Ben  Dimble — who  had  been  promoted  since  his  boyhood,  from 
the  post  of  attendance  upon  Shetland  Bobby,  and  its  girl-mis* 
tress,  to  that  of  his  young  lady's  groom — advanced  a  pace  or 
two,  and  touching  his  hat,  with  a  shy,  bashful  glance,  which  was 
lost  upon  Kate,  said  : — "  Oh,  if  you  please,  Miss  Kate,  you  didn't 
see  nobody,  did  you  ?  That  is,  nobody  in  particular  ?  " 

Kate  Ireton's  ear  caught  the  hesitating  tone,  though  her  cyo 
had  failed  to  note  the  look. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Ben  ?  " 

"  I  mean,  Miss,  you  didn't  see  anybody,  did  you?  n 

"  Oh  yes ;  I  saw  a  great  many  bodies,  of  various  siies,"  she 
rrjilk'd  ;  "  there  were  a  number  of  big  girls,  and  little  girls,  and 
middle-sized  girls,  and  tiny,  child-girls — almost  baby-girls,  Ben. 
I  suppose  you  know  that  is  the  new  school-house,  Ben  ?  " 

"  YLS,  Mi-s,  I  know  that,"  said  Ben;  who,  being  an  old  re- 
tainer, though  a  young  serving-man,  was  treated  with  kindly 
familiarity  ami  privilege  by  the  'Squire  and  his  niece. 

"  Well  then,  besides  this  number  of  small  bodies,  I  saw  a 
b<>dy.  and  an  elderly  body — " 

"  Oh.  you  saw  her,  did  ye,  Miss  ?"  said  Ben. 
10" 


226  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

"  Yes,  I  saw  her ;  and  a  furiously  cross-grained,  ill-grained, 
sour-looking  body  she  is  !  "  replied  Kate. 

"  Oh,  you  mean  her,  Miss  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  don't  you,  Ben  ?  " 

"  No,  Miss.  But  it  don't  matter ;  I  don't  mean  anybody, 
now,  thank  ye,  Miss  Kate." 

"  Nobody,  Ben.  ?  " 

"  Nobody,  Miss ;  that  is — nobody  in  partic'lar,"  said  Ben. 

"  Perhaps  you  mean  the  '  young  body  '  I  mentioned,  Ben  ?  " 
said  his  mistress. 

"  Well, — perhaps  I  do,  Miss,"  he  stammered  out. 

"  Oh,  you  do,  Ben  !  Then  I  must  say,  she's  neither  cross- 
grained,  nor  ill-conditioned,  nor  sour-faced.  She  has  a  very  nice, 
kind,  mild  face,  though  it  looks  paler  than  it  should  do, — with 
the  close  air  and  confinement,  I  suppose,  poor  thing  !  " 

"  It's  to  my  notion,  -what  an  angel's  must  look  like  ! "  Ben 
Dimble  blurted  out. 

"  So,  so  !  Somebody  thinks  this  '  nobody '  a  beauty,  besides 
some  one  else  !  "  was  Kate's  thought  within  herself. 

"  You'd  say  the  same,  Miss  Kate,  if  you'd  seen  that  face  as 
I've  seen  it,"  said  Ben.  "  It  was  once  rosy  as  an  angel's,  into 
the  bargain.  "  That  time's  past,"  he  added,  with  a  break  in  his 
voice ;  "  but  now  the  rosiness  is  gone,  the  angel  look  is  more 
than  ever." 

Mr.  Worthington  appearing,  Ben  fell  back  into  his  place  ; 
while  Fermor  lifted  Kate  to  her  horse,  and  they  once  more  pro- 
ceeded with  their  ride.  "  I  made  Lemon-face  tell  me  all  about 
her !  "  said  Feruior. 

"  About  '  her  ! '     About  whom  ?  '•'  said  Kate. 

"  About  the  little  sub-monitress  ;  the  pale,  quiet  young  girl 
we  noticed. 

"  We  noticed  !  You  noticed,  you  mean  !  I  should  not  have 
been  likely  to  observe  such  a  mopish,  insignificant  pale-face, — 
which  you  were  pleased  to  liken  to  a  saint,  a  Raffaelle  head,  and 
I  know  not  what !  It  was  you  pointed  her  out  to  me  ;  not  I  tc 
vou." 


THE    IRON    COt:?IX.  227 

"  But  you  couid  not  fail  to  remark  her  !  your  quick,  artistic 
sye,  Kate,  could  not  have  missed  the  placid  beauty  of  that  head 
— all  the  more  touching  and  interesting,  for  its  look  of  sickness 
and  sadness.  And  yet  there  is  more  of  resignation  than  mourn- 
fulncss  in  her  face.  She  looks  like  one  who  meets  sorrow  with  a 
patient,  cheerful  courage  in  the  fulfilment  of  her  duties — the  best 
of  all  valour  against  care  and  trouble." 

"  She  has  known  care  and  trouble,  then  1 "  inquired  Kate. 

"  Much  ;  and  confronted  it  bravely.  Her  father  died  sud- 
denly. She  was  left  with  an  ailing  mother  to  support.  She  has 
contrived  to  keep  a  roof  over  her  infirm  parent's  head  and  her 
own,  by  her  unaided  labour  ;  by  frugal  management,  by  unflinch- 
ing industry,  she  was  able  to  retain  the  cottage,  in  which  they 
live  together,  adjoining  the  school-house.  It  seems  that  she  was 
once  as  bright-cheeked  as  she  is  now  pale — and  was  a  sort  of  vil- 
lage belle.  But  an  accident — a  severe  fall — and  a  long  illness, 
just  before  her  father's  death,  deprived  her  of  her  colour  and 
good  looks,  leaving  her  also  lame  and  slightly  deformed.  Her 
case  gained  her  friends ;  and  when  the  school-house  was  estab- 
li<lu'<l,  fche  was  appointed  sub-mouitress.  I  gathered  these  par- 
ticulars, by  single  drops,  from  Lemon-face,  who  unwillingly  suf- 
fered them  to  be  squeezed  from  her.  But  reluctant  testimony 
is  sometimes  the  most  significant.  The  more  sharply  and  acridly 
she  spoke,  the  more  I  could  see  how  genuine  must  be  the  desert 
which  could  extort  this  vinegar  approval.'1 

"  How  could  the  people,  who  showed  some  good  sense  and 

tVi-liiur  in  their  appointment  of  the  sub-monitrcss,  show  so  little 

of  cither  in  their  choice  of  the  head-mistress  !  "  exclaimed  Kate. 

"  Such  a  hateful  lump  of  acid  is  not  fit  to  come  near  children,  far 

•  have  the  care  of  them  I  " 

"  I  understand  she  has  a  powerful  party  among  the  directors, 
m  her  favour,  who  procured  her  the  situation,  and  mean   to 
maintain  IKT  then;,  as  a  proof  of  their  <>\vn   influence,"  sa: 
mor. 

"  And  what  will  uot  men  do,  to  carry  a  point  wherein  power 
and  influence  are  concerned ! "  cried  Kate.  "  Were  the  Iron 


228  THE    IRON    TOUS1N. 

Cousin  one  of  these  School-house  Directors,  I  have  no  doubt  lit 
would  not  bate  an  inch  of  his  prerogative  ;  but  would  keep 
Lemon- face  in  her  situation,  in  spite  of  the  whole  board  !  " 

"  I  shall  see  what  I  can  do  to  become  one  of  this  board,"  re- 
plied Fermor ;  "  and,  once  a  director,  I'll  try  my  best  to  dis- 
lodge Lemon-face,  and  get  a  fitter  woman  appointed  in  her  stead. 
It  is  not  right  that  children's  tempers  should  be  soured,  and 
their  daily  lives  embittered,  by  being  under  the  control  of  such  a 
teacher." 

"  Bravo  !  If  not  for, — against, — the  iron  hand  will  essay  its 
strength.  Anything,  as  a  trial  of  force,  is  welcome  to  the  iron 
nature." 

"  And  you  allow  no  weight  to  the  desire  of  prevailing  in  a 
right  cause  ?  You  think  I  would  just  as  lief  contest  for  an  evil 
principle  as  a  good  one,  Kate  ?  " 

"  Nay,  I  give  full  weight — due  weight — iron  weight — to  such 
a  desire.  I  have  always  acknowledged  your  dominant  predilec- 
tion for  right  and  justice.  A  bad  cause  is  a  weak  cause ;  and 
what  has  the  Iron  Cousin  to  do  with  weakness  ?  He  will  al- 
ways eschew  wrong  and  evil,  if  it  be  but  to  avoid  being  worsted. 
But  here  is  Mr.  Chalkby's  shop.  Will  you  wait  for  me  a  mo- 
ment, while  I  go  in  and  choose  some  mill-board  that  I  want  ?  " 

"  I  will  come  in  with  you,"  said  Fermor. 

There  was  a  carriage  at  the  door,  and,  when  they  entered, 
they  found  its  lady-mistress  seated  at  the  counter,  making  some 
purchases  of  wools  and  embroidery  silks.  She  was  a  Mrs.  Hunt- 
ley,  the  wife  of  one  of  'Squire  Heathcote's  associates,  and  known 
slightly  to  Kate  Ireton,  as  a  purse-proud,  arrogant  woman,  who 
thought  herself  the  grand  personage  and  chief  lady  of  the  neigh- 
bourhood. 

Presently  Fermor  came  to  the  end  of  the  shop  where  Kate 
was  being  attended  to  by  Mr.  Chalkby's  daughter,  and  whis- 
pered :  "  There  is  Mrs.  Huntley  waiting  to  catch  your  eye 
Kate." 

"  Is  she  ?  "  replied  Kate,  drily,  going  on  with  what  she  was 
about. 


THE    IKOiN    COUSIN.  229 

"  She  id  waiting  to  bow  to  you,"  he  said. 

"  Let  her  wait,"  rejoined  Kate.  "  Why  need  you  note  hei 
expcctings  ?  Or,  if  you  choose  to  note  them,  do  so ;  only  n« 
need  to  report  them  to  me.  I  care  nething  for  them ;  they  do 
not  concern  me." 

"  On  the  contrary,  they  have  you  for  their  object,"  he  an- 
swered. 

"  Xo  matter  ;  if  they  are  very  urgent  to  compass  their  object, 
they  will  make  themselves  known  to  it,  all  in  good  time." 

Presently  Mrs.  Huntley  came  up,  all  smiles  and  condescen- 
sion. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Ireton,  how  are  you  ?  Delighted  to  meet 
you,  I'm  sure.  How  is  your  worthy  uncle  ?  If  it  were  hunting- 
season,  I  should  know  he'd  be  out  with  the  hounds  and  Mr. 
Huntley,  as  usual,  eh  ?  " 

'*  He  is  fond  of  a  day  with  the  dogs,  madam,  certainly ;  but 
I  did  not  know  you  included  your  lord  and  husband  among  the 
pack,  and  even  made  him  the  last  on  your  list.  Ranger,  Ring- 
wood,  Echo,  Sweetlips,  Mr.  Huntley  !  That's  hardly  a  fit  cli- 
max— hardly  fit  courtesy  towards  one  of  the  first  gentlemen  in 
the  county." 

"  Oh,  ay,  I  see  !  I  used  a  mere  fashion  of  speech,  and  you 
very  properly  joke  me  upon  it,  my  dear  Miss  Ireton.  Fortu- 
nately, Mr.  Huntley's  position  will  allow  of  a  little  trip  in  naming 
it  with  due  respect.  But  tell  me,  my  dear,  how  is  your  excel- 
lent uncle  ?  " 

"  My  uncle  is  in  perfect  hunting-health,  madam,  I  thank  you, 
although  the  season  is  out  of  his  favour  for  giving  proof  of  his 
being  in  that  robust  state. — Miss  Chalkby,  don't  hold  those  heavy 
boards  all  this  time ;  rest  them  here,  until  I  can  finish  my  selec- 
tion ;  I  will  not  detain  you  long.  Can  I  deliver  any  message  to 
my  uncle  for  you,  madam  ?  "  she  added,  again  addressing  Mrs. 
Huntley. 

"  None,  I  thank  you,  my  dear  Miss  Ireton  :  oh,  yes !  now  I 
think  of  it,  you  may  tell  him,  if  you  please,  that  I  mean  to  call 
upon  him  some  morning  soon,  and  ask  him  for  a  cutting  of  hil 
Italian  vine.  I  hoar  he  has  one  of  a  particularly  fine  sort." 


230  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  I  have  no  doubt  he  will  have  great  pleasure  in  giving  you 
the  slip  you  desire  ;  and  I  shall  have  much  gratification  in  giving 
Dim  one  for  the  purpose,  madam ;  since  he  always  calls  the  plant 
mine,"  said  Kate. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Ireton,  you're  very  good,  I'm  sure  ;  I  shall 
be  delighted  to  have  it  your  joint  gift.  Expect  to  see  me  at 
Heathcote  as  soon  as  possible.  Good-bye  !  Good  morning  to 
you,  sir ! "  and  with  a  bow  to  Fermor,  whom  she  knew  by  sight, 
Mrs.  Huntley  swept  out  of  the  shop,  aud  into  her  carriage,  and 
drove  off. 

"  I  did  not  know  you  could  be  so  disdainful,  Kate,"  said 
Fermor,  as  they  rode  on  again,  having  finished  the  commission. 

"  No  ?  That  is  not  the  only  bad  point  you  have  still  to  dis- 
cover in  me,"  she  replied. 

"  She  is  a  woman  more  than  double  your  age,  Kate,"  he  con- 
tinued, gravely. 

"  That  is  not  to  be  disputed ;  it  is  a  fact — an  indubitable, 
legibly-written  fact — a  fact  on  the  face  of  it,"  laughed  she. 

"  She's  the  wife  of  one  of  your  uncle's  oldest  and  best-liked 
friends."  he  went  on. 

"  Quite  true  ;  Mr.  Huntley  is  as  unaffected  and  good-humour- 
ed as  his  wife  is  haughty  and  insolent." 

"  Haughty  !  Insolent !  She  was  even  more  than  polite  to 
you,  Kate.  She  stayed  for  your  notice,  she  bore  with  your  jest- 
ing ;  both  condescensions  scarce  seemly  for  you  to  subject  a 
woman  of  her  age  to  the  rendering,"  said  Fermor  Worthiugton. 
"  So  far  from  showing  haughtiness  or  insolence,  she  was  only  too 
courteous,  too  deferential." 

"  Ay,  to  me — that  is  what  I  resent  in  her  ;  she  can  be  civil 
enough — too  civil — to  me,  Miss  Ireton,  'Squire  Heathcote  of 
Heathcote  Hall's  niece ;  but  you  should  see  her  behaviour,  as  I 
have,  to  her  inferiors,  or  those  she  thinks  her  inferiors — to  her 
waiting-maid,  her  footmen,  her  coachman.  Even  her  husband — 
yet  if  he  submit  to  her  arrogance,  e'en  let  him  bear  it  for  his 
folly.  You  should  have  seen  her,  as  I  did,  the  other  day,  to  that 

t,  inoffensive,  blushing  little  creature,  Lucy  Chalkby.     She 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  23  J 

treated  her  like  a  mat,  or  a  footstool ;  something  to  be  put  in 
order,  and  set  in  its  place,  with  the  toe.  Talk  of  my  disdain  j 
You  should  have  seen  hers !  And  to  one  who  had  neither  pro- 
voked nor  deserved  it." 

Suddenly  Kate's  face  changed  from  the  scorn  and  indignation 
that  coloured  it  high,  as  she  caught  sight  of  a  distant  object 
A  smile  of  unmixed  joy  beamed  in  her  eyes,  on  her  lips,  irradia- 
ting her  whole  countenance,  as  she  exclaimed ;  "  See  !  there  is 
ray  uncle  coming  to  meet  us  !  Let  us  gallop  on  towards  him  ! " 

"  And  what  kind  of  a  day  has  my  Kate  spent  ?  "  inquired  the 
'Squire,  as  they  proceeded  all  three  together  towards  the  old  Hall. 

"  An  edifying  ride ;  a  quite  properly- spent  day  altogether, 
uncle,"  cried  Kate,  gaily.  "  I  have  been  instructed  how  I  may 
turn  drawing  and  painting  into  a  moral  lesson ;  have  learned  that 
they  are  to  be  regarded  rather  as  forming  a  code  of  rules  in  ethi- 
cal philosophy,  than  as  mere  fine  arts.  Then  I  have  been 
taken  to  school,  and  shown  how  naughty  it  is  to  show  any 
qualmishness  or  squeamishness  at  unsavoury  smells,  when  they 
arise  from  a  wholesome  educational  source  ;  and  made  to  perceive 
how  virtuous  it  is  to  earn  your  own  bread,  and  support  your  old 
mother — both  of  which  any  stork,  or  goose,  may  know,  and  does 
know,  by  instinct.  Then,  moreover,  I've  been  read  a  lecture  on 
the  wickedness  of  disrespect  to  my  elders,  and  disdain  to  my 
superiors ;  which  latter,  I  beg  to  differ  from,  until  I  shall  have 
quite  made  up  my  own  mind  on  the  infallible  superiority  of  all 
elders,  and  the  exact  guage  and  estimate  of  so-called  superiors." 

"  What  does  this  rattle-pate  girl  mean,  Fermor  ?  "  asked  the 
'Squire,  with  a  fond  smile,  as  Kate's  tongue  scampered  on  with 
the  glib  rapidity  which  always  inspired  it,  when  she  joined  her 
uncle  after  any  short  absence.  Glad  tone,  and  voluble  utterance, 
seemed  equally  to  attest  the  lightness  of  heart  with  which  she 
found  herself  again  by  his  side. 

"  It  means  she  is  glad  to  be  released  from  the  grim  tutelage 
^f  the  Iron  Cousin's  sage  remarks  and  admonitions,  that  she  may 
sport  in  tli"  free  license  of  the  silver-haired  uncle's  indulgence," 
•wiled  1'Ynuor 


232  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

"  The  truest  thing  out  cf  the  many  true  truths,  and  sobei 
solemn  verities,  and  unquestionable  truisms,  with  which  you  havi 
favoured  me  in  the  course  of  to-day,  cousin  mine  ! "  exclaimed 
Kate.  "  Thank  you  for  wasting  so  many  of  them  upon  my 
worthless  self." 

"  No  waste,  if  you  turn  them  to  profit,"  he  returned.     "  Not 
worthless,  since  you  are  well  worth  any  pains." 

"  Gramercy  for  your  pains,  bestowed  upon  my  graceless  self, 
then." 

"  By  no  means  graceless,  being  most  graceful ;  only  a  little 
ungracious,  Kate." 

"  Graciousness  was  never  my  forte,"  she  replied. 

"  Why  not  make  it  so  ?  " 

"  I  leave  all  strong  attempts  to  the  Iron  Cousin.     'Tis  his 
vocation,  his  '  forte  ; '  he  is  strength  itself." 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

AFTER  a  quiet  period  by  110  means  unpleasant  to  Kate  Ireton, 
Miss  White  returned  to  Heathcote  Hall.  One  evening  that  Fcr- 
mor  Worthington  had  come  over,  as  was  his  frequent  wont,  to 
spend  it  with  his  friends,  the  conversation  turned  upon  a  sudden 
stroke  of  good  fortune  that  had  happened  to  an  inhabitant  of  Din- 
gleton,  who  had  obtained  a  large  prize  in  the  lottery. 

"  Now  his  wife  will  be  able  to  make  that  show  in  the  world 
which  has  so  long  been  her  ambition,"  said  Fermor.  "  Hitherto 
it  has  been  the  show  of  show  ;  now  it  will  be  show  itself.  How- 
ever her  children  might  lack  full  meals,  they  never  wanted  for 
smart  clothes  ;  she  always  kept  up  appearances.  Now  she  will 
have  it  in  her  power  to  appear  no  richer  than  she  really  is — a 
priceless  blessing." 

"  To  keep  up  appearances,  in  the  midst  of  actual  distress,  is 
most  respectable,  don't  you  think  so,  Mr.  Worthington  ?  "  said 
Alicia  White. 


THE    IKON    COUSIN.  233 

"  Very  respectable,"  he  answered.  "  Mrs.  Semble  waa  a 
perfectly  respectable  woman." 

"  Yet  she  was  a  woman  I  could  never  respect,"  said  Kate. 
''  She  was  not  exactly  a  liar,  or  even  an  equivocator.  Yet  she 
li;ul  a  way  of  what  she  called  putting  things  in  an  advantageous 
li^lit ;  of  making  matters  tell ;  of  giving  words  a  colouring  such 
as  .-In-  wished  them  to  assume,  when  she  repeated  any  fact.  I 
never  liked  Mrs.  Semble.  I'm  glad  she  has  got  a  fortune,  and  is 
gone  to  spend  it  elsewhere." 

"  But  do  you  not  approve  of  making  the  most  you  can  of  bad 
matter;',  Kate  ?  "  said  Alicia. 

"  No  ;  the  least  made  of  them  the  better.  Leave  bad  alone, 
or  you  make  it  worse,"  replied  she. 

"  Unless  you  mend  it  altogether,  honestly,  and  diligently,  and 
truly,  and  so  convert  it  into  good,"  said  Fennor. 

"  I  mean,  don't  you  think  it  is  wise  and  right  to  make 
misfortunes  pass  off  as  well  as  you  can?  To  make  circum- 
stances appear  as  creditably  as  possible  ? "  pursued  Alicia 
White. 

"  I  think  it  perhaps  the  most  worldly  wise,  but  certainly  not 
the  most  worthily  wise,"  answered  Kate.  "  If  you  wear  a 
shabby  coat,  the  world  will  probably  hold  you  to  be  a  poor 
shabby  fellow,  and  treat  you  accordingly ;  but  if  you  know  you 
can't  afford  to  dress  better,  and  are  conscious  that  it  is  neither 
poverty  of  spirit  nor  shabbiness  of  soul  that  occasions  it,  wear 
your  shabby  coat  still,  and  try  if  you  can't  make  the  world  know 
you  for  what  you  are,  and  treat  you  properly,  in  spite  of  your 
appearance." 

"  But  it  is  a  positive  duty  to  do  our  utmost  to  put  a  good 
face  on  disagreeables  and  difficulties,  however  desperate,"  said 
Mi—  White.  "  And  why  not  set  things  iu  their  best  and  most 
advantageous  light  ?  " 

•'Why  not  let  them  appear  as  they  are?"  replied  Kate. 
'  Kv.n  it"  th.-y  tliance  to  stand  in  their  own  light  a  little  by  doing 
•o,  yet  that's  better  than  making  them  stand  out  too  falsely  JTO- 
luinriit.  JJetter  they  should  keep  iu  the  shade,  than  be  shows 
np  by  artificial  glare." 


234  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  You  have  not  kept  in  the  shade  since  you  have  been  awaj 
from  us,  Alicia,  my  dear,"  said  the  'Squire  ;  "  a  little  bird  •whis- 
pered me  that  you  have  been  shining  very  brilliantly  at  some 
musical  parties  lately  ;  and  that  at  one,  where  my  little  bird  was 
present,  you  enchanted  the  whole  room,  and  were  unanimously 
declared  the  best  pianoforte-player  ever  heard.  He  said  that, 
for  his  part,  he  liked  your  finger  better  than  e'er  a  dementi  or  a 
Kalkbrenner  of  them  all." 

"  '  He ! '  who  ?  who,  my  dear  'Squire,  could  have  told  you 
this  ?  "  said  Alicia  White. 

"  Ah,  you  Eve's  own  daughter  !  "  laughed  the  'Squire.  "  So 
you  are  curious  to  know  where  ihe  little  bird  roosts.  But  I 
shall  leave  you  to  guess.  It  will  be  a  pretty  riddle  for  you.  I 
shall  only  tell  you  that  the  poor  fellow  was  well  nigh  distraught 
to  hear  you  again.  He  raved  like  a  madman  about  your  playing, 
for  he's  passionately  fond  of  music." 

"  And  are  you,  'Squire  ?  "  asked  Miss  White. 

"  I  am  very  fond  of  some  music,"  he  said  ;  "  but  it  must  be 
my  own  particular  sort  of  music.  However,  I  never  hear  any ; 
so  I  make  myself  content  without  it." 

"  I  wish  I  could  try  if  my  music  is  the  sort  of  music  you  like, 
'Squire,"  said  Miss  White ;  "  what  a  pity  that  you  have  no  in- 
strument here.  It  is  the  only  thing  Heathcote  Hall  lacks  to 
render  it  perfect." 

"  The  roc's  egg  !  "  smiled  Fermor. 

"  There  is  an  old  instrument  somewhere ;  a  harpsichord,  a 
spinnct,  I  hardly  know  what ;  but  my  Kate  got  me  to  have  it 
put  in  order  for  her  when  we  first  came  home,  and  perhaps  that 
might  do  to  let  us  hear  you  upon.  Kate,  my  darling,  where  is  it  ? 
You  routed  it  out  of  some  remote  corner,  and  stowed  it  away  in 
one  of  your  own.  Where  is  it  now  ?  " 

"  It  is  an  old-fashioned  thing,  Alicia ;  it  has  not  sufficient 
compass  for  you  to  play  upon.  You  are  doubtless  accustomed 
to  the  good  modern  instruments. — to  a  pianoforte ;  this  is  only  a 
harpsichord,"  said  Kate. 

"  No  matter  ;  I  will  make  it  do,  to  try  and  please  the  'Squire 


THE   IRON    COUSIN.  235 

with,"  said  Alicia.  '  Let  me  see  it,  Kate,  dear.  In  which  room 
is  it  ?  Let  us  go  there." 

u  Lead  the  way.  Kate  ;  I  am  anxious  to  hear  Alicia.  It  is 
lon^  .since  I  have  had  anything  like  a  treat  of  music,"  said  the 
'Squire. 

Kate  rose  at  her  uncle's  words,  lighted  a  taper,  and  ushered 
them  upstairs  into  the  little  room  occupying  the  odd  walled-in 
angle  of  the  building. 

"Another  den,  Kate?"  whispered  Fermor  Worthington,  as 
Miss  White  sat  down  to  the  instrument,  and  played  a  brilliant 
prelude.  The  nod  with  which  Kate  Ireton  replied,  served  to 
clear  off  the  shade  of  vexation  with  which  she  had  perceived  her- 
self compelled  to  bring  them  hither ;  and  the  pleasure  with 
which  she  was  soon  listening  to  Alicia  White's  really  fine  execu- 
tion, left  her  speaking  face  with  no  other  expression  than  that  of 
pure  delight  upon  it. 

At  the  first  pause  in  the  music,  there  was  a  sincere  burst  of 
admiration  from  the  assembled  party. 

"  My  dear  Alicia !  how  much  we  have  lost  by  not  hearing 
you  before !  "  said  the  'Squire.  "  But  you  must  indulge  me 
often  in  this  way,  now  that  I  know  you  have  this  rare  talent. 
By  mercy  !  that's  something  like  playing !  I  hate  your  mere 
one,  two,  three,  four  in-a-bar  style  of  young  lady  strumming ; 
mere  banging,  to  measure.  But  such  meaning,  such  beauty,  such 
expression  as  that,  is  worth  hearing  indeed  !  Is  it  asking  you 
too  much,  my  dear,  to  play  me  another  piece?" 

M  As  many  as  you  please  ;  as  long  as  you  like ;  I  am  never 
tired,  dear  sir.  Only  tell  me  you  wish  me  to  play,  and  it  will  bo 
a  delight  to  me  to  do  so,  whenever  you  feel  inclined." 

"  You  are  very  good,  my  dear.     Then  I  am  ready  iiow." 

Alic-ui  White  next  played  a  movement  full  of  fire  and  anima- 
tion ;  then  followed  a  charming  andante,  in  which  she  accim-d  to 
make  the  tones  glide  into  one  another,  so  even  wos  her  tom-h,  >•• 
admirably  smooth  a  legato  could  she  deliver,  by  tin-  prrfri-tly 
i-qnalizcd  power  of  her  fingers.  Her  listeners  again  repaid  her 
with  unfeigned  applause.  "  You  are  a  delightful  audience,"  ih* 


236  THE   IRON   COUSIN. 

said  ;  "  so  still,  so  attentive,  so  aware  of  the  merits  of  the  compo 
sition,  so  lenient  to  the  defects  of  the  performer." 

"  So  enjoying  her  faultless  excellence,  you  mean,"  said  Kate. 
"  You  are  too  good  a  musician,  Alicia,  not  to  be  aware  that  you 
play  admirably.  Your  style  is  quite  masterly." 

"  You  are  very,  very  kind,  Kate,"  said  Alicia. 

"  I  never  praise  from  kindness.  Whenever  I  praise,  it  is  be- 
cause I  feel  it — because  I  can't  help  it,"  replied  Kate.  "  It 
would  amount  to  a  downright  falsehood,  to  hold  one's  tongue 
about  such  playing  as  that." 

'  From  this  instrument  being  in  one  of  your  dens,  Kate,  I 
couclude  you  play  yourself,"  said  Fermor,  as  Miss  White  turned 
once  more  to  the  harpsichord  and  ran  her  fingers  over  the  keys, 
as  if  trying  to  remember  something  else. 

"  Hush  !  Alicia  is  going  to  give  us  another  piece,"  she 
replied. 

"  She  is  but  preluding.  Tell  me,  is  it  not  so  ?  You  play 
yourself,  Kate  ?  " 

"  Be  quiet :  I  want  to  listen,  not  talk." 

"  You  don't  want  to  listen  to  that ;  it  is  merely  preparative." 

"  It  is  better  worth  hearing  than  a  tormenting  iron  clangour, 
a  peal  of  iron  pertinacity :  be  still,  I  beg,  and  leave  me  in  peace." 

Fermor  Worthington  moved  away.  But  he  went  to  the  'Squire's 
side ;  and  when  Alicia  had  finished  a  very  beautiful  sonata,  he  said : 
"  Kate  plays,  of  course,  'Squire  ?  " 

"  Does  she  ?  "  was  the  reply.  "  But  as  you  say,  of  course  she 
must ;  or  how  comes  the  instrument  here,  in  her  own  little  dress- 
ing-room ?  Kate,  my  dear,  come  hither." 

"Yes,  uncle." 

"  I  want  to  hear  how  my  Kate  can  play  herself.  But  tolera- 
bly, I  dare  say.  We  can't  expect  you  to  be  a  first-rate  performer 
like  Alicia.  But  still  I  should  like  to  hear  you." 

"Should  you,  uncle?" 

"Yes,  my  Kate." 

"  Then  I'll  do  my  best — for  you,  uncle." 

She  went  to  the  instrument  with  a  burning  cheek,  but  a  nrm, 


THE  inoN  COUSIN.  237 

resolved  air.  She  had  nerved  herself  by  that  one  thought,  against 
the  acute  pain  it  cost  her  to  sit  down  and  play  for  the  first  time 
in  her  life  before  any  other  than  her  teacher.  No  human  ear,  save 
Mrs.  Lindon's  and  her  own,  had  ever  till  now  hearkened  to  her ; 
and  it  caused  her  a  pang  of  trepidation  known  only  to  those  who 
indulge  a  solitary  study  of  music  for  their  own  delight  purely,  to 
feel  that  she  had  listeners. 

She  played  a  short  plaintive  air,  one  that  lived  in  her  memory 
for  its  ineffable  sweetness  and  tenderness,  its  voluptuous  melan- 
choly, its  profound  and  passionate,  yet  simple  pathos. 

When  it  was  ended,  not  a  soul  uttered  a  word  for  some  mo- 
ments. 

Alicia  White  was  the  first  who  spoke.  "  To  use  your  own 
j>hrase,  Kate  dear,  it  would  be  absolute  fibbing,  to  withhold  praise 
f nn n  such  music  as  that!"  she  said. 

"  Aud  yet  silence  is  its  only  fit  meed,"  said  Fermor,  in  a  low 
voice. 

"  It  is  lovely !  Absolute  perfection !  Where  did  you  hear 
it?  Where  did  you  learn  it?  Where  is  it  to  be  got?"  contin- 
ued Alicia. 

"  I  heard  it  in  an  opera,  abroad  ;  it  took  my  fancy,  and  I  tried 
tn  remember  it.  It  is  a  tenor  air,  I  believe,"  answered  Kate. 
u  All  I  know  of  music  consists  in  a  few  airs  I  have  picked  up  by 
chance — by  car;  I  never  could  learn  a  set  piece.  Poor  Mrs.  Lin- 
tlon  jrave  up  hoping  to  make  anything  of  me  as  a  performer." 

"  IMay  me  another  of  your  picked-up  airs,  Kate ;  I  like  them," 
Baid  the  'Squire,  whose  honest  eyes  were  full. 

She  played  again  ;  and  again  the  most  genuine  of  comments — 
an  unspoken  one,  followed. 

"  Kate,  dear,  you  have  perfect  expression,  perfect  feeling,  in 
your  playing,"  said  Miss  White. 

"I  feel  what  I  play,  certainly;  I  could  not  play  it  at  all,  else. 
Unless  an  air  strikes  me  with  some  peculiar  sense  of  beauty,  1 
cannot  master  it;  and  I  never  attempt  it." 

" Both  the  airs  you  have  played,  Kate,  are  song$"  said  Fer 
mor  Worthington. 


238  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

"  Well,  and  what  then  ?  " 

"  Then  it  is  probable  that  you  sing,  as  well  as  play." 

She  made  no  answer;  but  turned  away,  and  put  her  fingers 
upon  a  chord,  mutely,  merely  pressing  the  keys,  without  sounding 
them. 

"  Can  you  sing,  Kate  ?  "  said  the  'Squire. 

"  I  wish  you  would  not  ask  me,  uncle." 

"  Why,  child  ?  " 

"  Because  I  must  answer  you  ;  and  if  I  answer  must  speak  the 
truth." 

"  I  think  we  are  answered,  'Squire,"  smiled  Fermor. 

"  I  think  we  are,"  returned  he.  "  If  she  could  not  sing,  she 
would  have  said  so  at  once." 

"There  was  no  question  of  'we'  being  answered;  I  said  I 
must  answer  you,  uncle ;  and  you  have  not  insisted  upon  a  reply. 
You  do  not  press  me  upon  points  that  you  feel  are  disagreeable 
to  me." 

"  I  hate  to  '  insist '  upon  anything  with  you,  you  rogue,  and  you 
know  it,"  said  the  'Squire. 

"  You  have  no  natural  disposition  to  tease,  and  torment,  and 
persist,  and  carry  a  point,  uncle  mine,"  she  said.  "  You  can  be 
contented  without  perpetually  testing  your  power." 

"Because  the  'Squire  knows  full  well  his  power,  its  existence, 
its  extent,"  said  Fermor  Worthington. 

"  If  he  were  doubtful  of  it,  he  might  be  more  anxious  to  ascer- 
tain its  force,  you  mean  ?  "  she  said,  with  a  brighter  light  in  her 
eyes ;  but  which,  being  cast  down,  revealed  no  glance  of  the  look 
playing  there ;  "  there  is  something  in  that ;  uncle  ought  to  know 
and  feel  his  limitless  power  by  this  time,  so  that  a  hint  of  his  will 
suffices  perfectly." 

"  And  you  know  what  his  wish  is  now,  though  it  hat  not  been 
expressed  as  his  will,"  replied  Fermor. 

"Indirectly,  if  not  directly;  through  another,  if  not  by  him 
self,  the  Iron  Cousin  contrives  to  compass  his  l  will,'  "  she  return 
ed.  "  That  is  evident  enough." 

"  Kate,  dear,  I  really  do  wish  you  would  let  us  hear  you  sing,'' 
laid  Miss  White. 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  239 

"  Alicia  has  earned  a  right  to  ask  for  whatever  she  likes,  in 
return  for  her  having  so  readily  obliged  us,"  said  the  'Squire. 
"Sing,  my  Kate,  as  well  as  you  can;  it  will  be  sure  to  please 
your  old  undo." 

Kate  instajitly  turned  to  the  instrument ;  and,  accompanying 
herself  with  a  few  simple  chords,  poured  forth  the  rich  volume  of 
a  full,  pure,  weighty  voice.  It  had  no  great  compass;  very  little 
flexibility;  scarcely  any  power  of  execution;  but  it  was  instinct 
with  natural  sentiment ;  it  was  full  of  genuine,  unrestrained,  un 
tutored  impulse ;  it  gave  unchecked  expression  to  the  emotions  ot 
heart  and  soul. 

The  air  was  one  which  needed  little  force  of  skill ;  but  it  de- 
manded true  feeling,  and  that  the  singer  gave  in  perfection. 

There  was  a  pausq  at  the  close.  Then  the  'Squire  rose,  and 
going  up  to  where  Kate  sat,  took  her  head  in  both  his  hands,  and 
held  it  against  his  breast  silently  for  some  moments.  Then  he 
stooped  over  her,  pressed  his  lips  upon  her  hair,  and  softly  shut- 
ting down  the  instrument,  drew  her  arm  within  his,  and  led  the 
way  down  stairs. 


Very  often,  after  that,  the  'Squire  made  her  sing  and  play. 
He  would  get  both  Kate  and  Alicia  to  go  with  him  to  the  little 
ig-room,  and  have  an  hour  or  two's  thorough  revel  in  music ; 
this  quiet,  but  plenary  enjoyment  of  his  own  favourite  pieces,  his 
own  chosen  airs,  his  free  indulgence  in  whatever  repetitions,  or 
caprices,  or  freaks  of  selection  he  gave  way  to  at  the  moment,  be- 
ing just  what  he  liked. 

Frequently,  when  Fermor  "Worthington  came  of  an  evening, 
ho  found  that  they  had  spent  whole  mornings  in  the  little  music- 
den  ;  or  had  just  come  down  from  a  long  afternoon  spell  of  sing- 
ing and  playing  there. 

"  Alicia  played  me  to-day  one  of  the  most  beautiful  pieces  I 
ev«-r  heard — even  from  her,"  said  the  'Squire,  enthusiastically. 
'•  When  I  asked  what  it  was,  she  gave  me  one  of  your  musician 
answers,  that's  as  good — or  rather  as  bad — as  Greek  to  me ;  some 


240  TIIE    IRON    COUSIN. 

German  man's  name,  in  some  key  or  other.  '  Somebody,  in  some- 
thing sharp,  minor  or  major,'  she  called  it ;  but  seeing  me  look  aa 
wise  as  ever,  she  added  that  it  was  sometimes  called  '  the  moon- 
light concerto.'  Didn't  you,  my  dear  ?  " 

"  Very  nearly  right,  dear  'Squire,"  replied  Alicia  White ; 
•' '  the  moonlight  sonata,'  you  mean." 

"  Concerto,  or  sonata — they  all  seem  to  me  pretty  nearly  the 
same  kind  of  names ;  but  the  things  themselves  I  know  quite 
well,  one  from  another.  Don't  I,  Kate  ?  Oh,  she's  not  here  ; 
she's  gone  to  see  White  Bess,  who  hurt  her  foot  yesterday.  But 
don't  I,  Alicia?" 

"  That  you  do,  my  dear  'Squire.  You  are  becoming  quite 
a  cognoscente — a  fanatico ;  with  discrimination  in  your  knowledge, 
and  judgment  in  your  fanaticism." 

"  I  wish  I  had  an  opportunity  of  forming  my  taste  and  judg- 
ment in  so  good  a  school,"  said  Fermor  Worthington.  "  If  there 
were  an  instrument  here  in  the  sitting-room,  I  might  have  a 
chance  of  profiting  by  Miss  White's  playing,  to  cultivate  them. 
And  such  skill  should  have  a  better  medium  for  doing  itself  jus- 
tice, than  the  poor  old  harpsichord.  'Squire,  I  am  going  to  ask 
your  permission  to  present  my  cousin  Kate  with  a  pianoforte  on 
her  coming  birthday,  that  we  may  have  an  opportunity  of  hear- 
ing her  friend's  brilliant  finger  in  its  proper  perfection." 

"  A  pianoforte,  my  dear  fellow  ?  I  fear  we  should  never  get 
Kate  to  accept  so  costly  a  gift  as  that.  She  might  object — she 
might  feel  that  it  was  too  much  for  a  birthday  present,  which 
should  be  some  trifle,  some  pretty  tasteful  toy,  that  does  well 
enough  to  show  regard,  but  is  of  no  great  price.  Kate  has  very 
odd  particular  notions  in  some  things  ;  she  won't  let  me  give  her 
anything  too  costly ;  she  forbids  me  to  buy  whatever  shall  ex- 
ceed a  certain  sum ;  and  I'm  afraid  she'll  expect  you  to  observe 
the  same  conditions,  or  she'll  perhaps  refuse  to  receive  it  alto- 
gether; and  that'd  be  a  pity — a  disappointment." 

"  When  she  sees  a  horizontal  grand  pianoforte,  with  extra 
jompass  and  additional  keys — one  fit  for  instrumental  perform- 
ance— one  adapted  to  exhibit  the  merits  of  her  friend's  playing, 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  241 

fihe  will  consent  to  accept  it,  for  the  sake  of  hearing  what  we  all 
BO  much  admire,"  urged  Fermor. 

'•  My  dear  boy,  I  speak  principally  on  your  account ;  I  should 
not  like  to  see  you  mortified ;  and  I  fear  lest  Kate  should  not 
like — should  say — in  short,  Kate  is  apt  to  express  herself  pretty 
freely  when  she  is  displeased ;  and  she  might,  you  know,  if  your 
birthday  offering  were  more  than  she  thought  it  should  be." 

"  If  you  do  not  forbid  me,  I'll  run  the  risk  of  a  sharp  word 
or  two.  You  know,  cousin  Kate  and  I  are  used  to  sparring ; 
I  would  not  mind  some  hazard,  to  ensure  the  object  in  view." 

Mi>s  White,  who  had  looked  much  fluttered  and  pleased  all 
along,  very  nearly  bowed  in  reply  to  these  concluding  words  of 
Fermor  Worthington.  But  she  restrained  herself  just  in  time 
from  this  palpable  token  of  taking  his  compliment  to  herself; 
and  said  instead :  "  }>y  the  way,  'Squire,  you  never  told  me  who 
was  the  little  bird  that  carried  you  the  news  of  my  playing.  A 
little  toll-tale  tit !  I  should  like  to— —I  don't  know  what  I  couldn't 
find  in  my  heart  to  do  to  it." 

"  Not  wring  its  neck,  I  hope  ?  It  deserves  caresses  for  its 
])lc:is;int  tidings,  I  think,"  said  Fermor.  "  It  was  the  means  of 
introducing  a  great  pleasure  to  us  all." 

"  Oh  no — oh  dear,  no  !  Not  wring  its  neck  1  I  wouldn't  be 
so  cruel,  upon  any  account,"  said  Miss  White,  simpering  and 
reddening. 

"  Then  of  course  you'll  prepare  to  grant  the  caresses,  and 
i:ivu  one  of  your  prettiest  and  sweetest  kisses  to  my  friend,  W  ill 
Huntley,  the  next  time  he  conies  here,"  said  the  'Squire.  "  He 
kfl  little  bird;  and  being  a  safe  old  married  man  into  the 
baririiiu,  YOU  may  venture  to  bestow  on  him  the  dainty  reward, 
my  dear,  and  tell  him  how  much  obliged  to  him  we  all  are." 

Alicia  White  reddened  still  more ;  but  looked  as  if  it  arose 
from  rather  a  different  feeling  now.  However,  she  rallied;  and 
said  with  her  smile  of  amiability :  "  You  may  command  me  in 
anything,  my  dear  'Squire.  Even  my  salutes  are  at  your  disposal; 
secure  that  you  will  never  desire  mo  to  bestow  them  otherwiM 
than  properly.'1 
11 


242  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  The  'Squire  will  very  likely  require  you  to  confer  some  of 
them  upon  himself,  if  you  empower  him  thus  far,"  said  Ferinor 
Worthington. 

"  He's  too  discreet,  and  too  honest,  to  appropriate  what  is 
entrusted  to  him,"  said  Kate,  who  had  entered  during  the  latter 
part  of  the  conversation ;  "  besides,  there  is  an  old   rule,  which 
excludes  certain  people  from  participation  in  personal  questions 
'  Present  company,'  you  know,  '  are  always  excepted.' >; 

"  Thank  you,  Kate  dear,  for  coming  to  my  assistance,"  said 
Miss  White. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

MIDSUMMER,  with  its  wealth  of  bloom  and  foliage,  had  scarcely 
arrived,  when  with  it  appeared  the  joyous  countenance,  frank 
laugh,  and  pleasant-spirited  readiness  to  be  pleased,  of  Cecil 
Lascelles.  He  had  slipped  away  from  the  tedious  grandeurs, 
and  stilted  hospitalities,  and  lofty  amenities,  of  Castle  Wrexham, 
to  the  ease  and  happiness  of  Heathcote  Hall,  ripe  for  a  gay. 
free,  boyish  holiday  with  the  friends  he  had  learned  to  like  so 
well.  He  felt  far  more  at  home,  far  more  fully  and  entirely  on 
terms  of  familiarity  and  intimacy  with  them,  than  he  did  with 
his  own  uncle — George  Darner,  Earl  of  Wrexham,  and  Baron  of 
Ludleigh.  The  cold,  distant,  formal  lord,  superbly  patronizing 
his  nephew,  and  seigneurially  encouraging  his  sister,  was  not  the 
personage  to  win  Cecil  Lascelles'  regard.  Feeling  that  he  could 
not  show  more  than  a  cool,  stiff  deference  in  return  for  the  cool, 
stiff  kindness  that  was  accorded  him,  he  was  not  slow  in  trying 
to  obtain  his  mother's  consent  that  he  should  return  for  a  time 
to  Heathcote,  until  she  could  learn  for  him  his  uncle's  final  de- 
cision respecting  the  future  career  he  would  advise  him  to  pursue. 
This  consent  was  at  length  yielded,  on  the  understanding  that  he 
was  to  hold  himself  ready  at  any  time  to  attend  her  summons ; 
she  feeling,  perhaps,  that  while  her  plans  were  in  operation,  the 


T1IR     IRnN    C'orSIV.  243 

object  of  them  was  quite  as  well  absent  as  present,  since  he 
neither  understood  their  scope  nor  could  aid  in  their  furtherance. 
He  only  generally  knew  that  his  mother  was  anxious  to  obtain 
her  brother's  counsel  in  the  choice  of  a  profession  for  him,  and 
il.'sirous  of  interesting  him  on  his  behalf;  and  that  until  this 
oracular  kinsman  had  pronounced  his  sanctional  fiat,  nothing 
could  be  settled  or  undertaken. 

Cecil  Lascolles  was  of  a  buoyant,  ligt  t-hearted  temperament, 
little  given  to  care  or  forethought.  He  enjoyed  the  present,  lived 
in  the  present,  and  left  the  future  to  provide  for  itself.  He  had 
hitherto  found  the  future  prove  a  very  pleasant  time  when  it 
arrived,  leaving  him  nothing  to  do  but  to  turn  it  into  an  agree- 
able present.  He  had  no  regrets  in  the  past,  no  solicitudes  for  the 
future ;  and  the  present  was  quite  to  his  taste,  especially  now, 
when  it  consisted  in  the  exchange  of  the  frigid  atmosphere  of 
Castlo  Wrexham  for  the  warm,  congenial  temperature  of  Heath 
cote  Hall. 

The  welcome  with  which  he  was  met  there,  showed  that  his 
advent  was  no  less  welcome  to  those  who  received  him,  than  his 
coming  among  them  again  was  a  delight  to  himself. 

••  And  now  for  our  postponed  excursion !  A  good  scamper 
across  the  Oakleigh  Downs,  over  to  Oakleigh  Hill !  "  exclaimed 
the  'Squire. 

"  And  the  ride  to  Bcanfield  Grange,  uncle,  and  the  one  to 
Tliorncroft  Hollow,  and  to  the  Copse  Mill,  and  to  Asho  Common. 
We'll  show  you,  Cecil,  that  our  county  can  boast  more  varied 
and  beautiful  rides  than  any  in  the  three  United  Kingdoms,"  said 
Kite. 

"  And  then  I  shall  put  in  my  claim  to  your  promise  that  you 
will  come  and  see  the  old  grey  gables  of  Worthington,  and  its  an- 
tique terrace,  and  the  venerable  greenness  of  its  time-honoured 
>nid  Fennor. 

"  That  should  be  reserved  to  the  last,  as  being  the  most  1 
liful  spot  of  them  all,"  said  Miss  White. 

"  You  see,  the  Iron  Cousin  proposed  it  so,  knowing  that  the 
pre  eminence  of  climax  belonged  of  right  to  Worthington  Couit 


JJ44  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

None  are  more  keenly  alive  to  the  proud,  surpassing  beauty  of 
the  place'  than  its  proud  owners  themselves.  They  have  openly 
gloried  in  it,  from  time  immemorial.  Their  pride  of  demesne 
has  been  the  rooted  growth  of  successive  generations." 

"  That  bespeaks  it  to  be  a  very  old  family,  and  it  consequent- 
ly cherishes  a  very  natural  pride,"  said  Cecil.  "  Few  prides  are 
more  pardonable — I  had  almost  said  laudable — than  the  pride 
which  springs  from  being  a  member  of  an  old  county  family,  hon- 
oured and  distinguished  for  centuries." 

"  Then,  of  course,  you,  Cecil,  own  to  some  self-glorification  in 
the  fact  of  being  a  descendant  from  a  family  which  can  number 
earls,  barons,  honourables,  and  right  honourables  among  its  soi 
ons  ?  "  said  Kate. 

':  I  believe  those  said  barons  and  earls,'  answered  Cecil,  "  had 
yet  to  be  created,  when  the  Worthingtons  were  already  ages  ex- 
isting. Our  patrician  honourables  and  right  honourables  still  rank- 
ed among  plebeians  when  the  owners  of  Worthington  Court  had 
been  gentry  from  grandsire  and  great-grandsire.  Counted  by 
reverence  of  antiquity,  ours  is  the  aristocracy  of  a  mushroom,  com- 
pared with  that  of  an  oak." 

"And  that  sprang  from  an  acorn!  "  laughed  Kate.  "  The 
origin,  after  all,  is  no  great  affair." 

"  Yet  less  ignoble  than  mushroom-spawn,  you'll  allow,  Kate  ?  " 
said  Cecil. 

"  True,"  she  answered.  ':  You  have  made  out  your  case  in 
favour  of  the  hog- food  over  the  human  dainty.  Swine  batten  and 
fatten  upon  forest  mast,  while  the  lords  of  the  creation  make  epi- 
curean morsels  of  broiled  mushrooms.  Still,  I  presume,  you  are 
victor  in  the  argument.  Be  it  so.  I  leave  you  master  of  the 
field." 

The  morning  appointed  for  the  visit  to  Worthington  Court 
proved  fair  in  the  extreme.  The  summer  had  attained  its  full 
glow  of  seasonal  warmth  and  beauty.  The  sky  was  without  a 
cloud  ;  of  a  clear,  perfect  blue.  The  woods  lay  bathed  in  the 
golden  rays  of  the  sun — their  massive  and  lofty  amplitude  of 
boughs  exuberant  in  full-leaved  greenness,  their  dark  embrowned 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  245 

boles  showing  richly  in  harmonious  contrast ;  the  emerald  turf 
which  carpeted  the  inward-leading  glades,  softening  and  molting 
into  dim  distance  beneath  the  shadow  of  the  over-arching  trees ; 
the  verdant  slopes  of  the  more  open  uplands,  blending  into  neu- 
tral tints,  and  deep-lilac  suffusion,  as  they  swelled  afar  into  mea- 
dow, copse,  corn-field,  or  hill-side. 

'  Tis  a  land,  indeed,  to  be  proud  of!"  exclaimed  Cecil 
Lascelles,  as  the  party  stood  on  the  old  stone  terrace  of  Worth- 
inirtnn  Court,  which  commanded  a  broad  extent  of  prospect. 
"  Who  can  wonder  that  we  English  entertain  a  strong  love  of 
country  ?  It  is  no  slight  privilege  to  call  any  portion  of  this 
glorious  spot  of  earth  our  own  1  It  might  well  make  a  man 
envious — were  a  fellow  worthy  the  name  of  man  who  could  stoop 
to  envy — towards  the  possessor  of  such  an  estate  as  Heathcotc 
or  Worthington.  You  country  gentlemen  have  a  right  to  the 
emotion  of  pride,  if  any  one  in  the  whole  world  has  !  To  call 
such  acres  his  own,  might  well  stir  an  anchorite  to  a  sense  of 
self  importance." 

"  It  is,  indeed,  a  perfect  Paradise  of  a  place,"  murmured 
Hki  White. 

"  There  is  one  thing  that  always  mars  its  perfection,  to  iny 
idea,"  said  Kate  Ireton.  "  Why,  on  earth,  good  cousin,  do  you 
allow  yonder  hideous  block  of  building  to  remain  stuck  there,  in 
the  midst  of  that  fine  sweep  of  lawn  ?  " 

"  I  have  often  thought  to  ask  you  the  same  thing,  Fcrrnor, 
my  boy  ; "  said  her  uncle.  "  It  really  hurts  the  eye.  If  I  were 
you,  I  would  have  it  pulled  down  at  once." 

"  On  no  account,"  Fermor  said,  briefly. 

••  What  can  you  want  with  it  there  ?  It's  of  no  use,  is  it  ? ' 
*;ii<l  the  'Squire. 

"  It  is  an  ice-house  ;  it  is  atill  used,"  replied  Ferraor. 

"  But  you  could  have  an  ice-house  built  somewhere  else, 
where  it  would  not  be  seen.  Just  there,  it  is,  as  Kate  says, 
hideous.  Take  my  advice,  and  down  with  it  at  once." 

"  By  no  means ;  ugly  as  it  may  be,  it  must  remain  there," 
•aid  Fermor. 


246  THE    IRON    COUSIN, 

"  One  of  the  Iron  Cousin's  '  musts  !"  laughed  Kate 

''  Just  so,"  he  said,  with  his  grave  smile. 

"  For  my  part,  I  think  it's  a  very  picturesque  old  building. 
It  reminds  me  of  the  romantic  Maus-thurm,  on  the  Rhine," 
said  Alicia  "White. 

"  '  Picturesque  ! '  You  are  joking,  Alicia  !  And  as  for  the 
Maus-thurm,  that's  where  it  should  be — pitched  in  the  middle 
of  a  stream.  But  this  heap  of  rubbish  is  set  just  in  a  spot 
where  it  affronts  every  body's  taste  and  good  sense,"  said  Kate. 

"  It  is  an  unsightly  thing  enough,  it  must  be  owned,"  as- 
sented Fermor.  "  Nevertheless,  I  shall  let  it  remain  where  it 
•s.  The  worst  defect  it  has,  in  my  eyes,  is,  that  it  impedes 
my  best  view  of  the  Heathcote  grounds.  Still,  it  cannot  be 
removed." 

"  Pshaw  !  why  not  ?  A  couple  of  men  would  raze  it  to  the 
ground  in  one  morning,  and  the  next  it  might  be  all  cleared 
away — not  a  trace  left.  Be  persuaded,  Fermor,  order  it  to  be 
done,"  said  the  'Squire,  as  he  took  Cecil  and  Alicia  away  with 
him  to  see  the  fine  sycamore-tree  at  the  other  end  of  the  terrace. 

"  You  will  have  it  pulled  down,  will  you  not  ?  "  said  Kate 
Ireton. 

"  Not  upon  any  consideration. "  he  replied  hastily,  but 
lirmly. 

"  Not  to  please — not  if  your  wilful  cousin,  Kate,  makes  it  her 
particular  request  ?  " 

He  looked  disturbed — pained ;  but  he  did  not  answer. 

Kate  Ireton  repeated  her  words  yet  more  earnestly. 

In  his  deep,  full  voice — which  always  lowered,  under  emo- 
tion— Fermor  said  :  "  There  is  not  a  living  being — not  a  human 
power — that  could  make  me  destroy  that  old  building.  In  say- 
ing this  to  you.  Kate,  I  show  that  nothing  can  move  me  in 
this." 

There  was  somewhat  of  even  solemn  appeal  in  his  manner, 
yet  Kate  could  not  refrain  from  persisting.  "  You  show,  what 
you  have  always  showo  that  there  is  nothing  capable  of  moving 
YOU  from  one  of  your  iron  purposes.  I  am  not  accustomed  to 


THE   IRON    COUSIN.  '24? 

ask  in  vain ;  and  I  ask  you  to  knock  down  an  ugly  ruin,  n,  blot, 
an  eye-sore ;  why  not  do  a  reasonable  thing,  and  grant  me  a 
favour  for  once  ?  " 

"  I  have  told  you,  that  if  for  any  one  breathing,  I  would  do 
this  for  you.  Kate.  But  there  is  more  than  mere  idle  will  and 
pleasure,  or  carrying  a  foolish  point,  at  stake.  A  pledge,  not 
of  earth,  depends  upon  my  keeping  faith  in  this.  Listen,  Kate, 
and  I  will  tell  you  why  I  cannot  have  yonder  building  de- 
stroyed." 

"  No  matter,"  she  said,  lightly ;  "  I  have  no  curiosity.  That 
is  not  one  of  my  errors.  I  have  not  the  least  wish  to  hear  this 
inkrhty  secret.  Pray  keep  it — as  you  keep  your  resolutions, 
inviolate.  I  thank  you,  however,  for  one  wisdom  you  have  taught 
me.  Never  more  shall  Kate  Ireton  beseech  aught  at  the  Iron 
Cousin's  hands.  As  the  lady  in  the  play  says  :  '  You  teach  mo 
how  a  beggar  should  be  answered.'  " 

She  turned  away,  with  a  half-playful  curtsey,  to  join  her 
uncle  and  the  others,  leaving  Fermor  looking  deeply  hurt  But 
he  mastered  his  discomposure,  and  went  forward  to  fulfil  his 
duty  as  host  and  entertainer. 

There  was  a  luxurious  collation  of  cold  viands  and  fruits, 
spread  beneath  one  of  the  broad,  shady  beech-trees  on  the  lawn, 
near  the  base  of  the  terrace-steps,  leading  from  one  side  of  the 
old  mansion,  and  of  this  Fermor  Worthington  now  invited  his 
guests  to  partake.  The  bland,  midsummer  atmosphere,  tho 
eating  in  the  open  air,  the  beauty  of  the  spot,  the  freedom  and 
unrestraint  of  the  smiling  talk,  conspired  to  make  it  a  feast — 
a  rural  banquet  to  those  assembled.  They  more  than  once 
declared  they  had  never  enjoyed  a  day  more  completely  to  their 
taste. 

'•  Confess  that  this  more  than  rivals  Italy,  Kate  !  "  exclaimed 
Cecil.  "  Do  you  remember  our  melancholy  largo  party  at  Pra- 
tolino  ?  The  huge  conventionality,  the  ungenial  profusion,  tho 
tire-some  merriment  V  Defend  me  from  an  overgrown  pic-nic, 
ye  gods  of  festive  comfort  1  " 

"  The  place  itself  wa.s  beautiful,— most  beautiful,"  »aid  KaU» 


248  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

"  It  vfas  ;  but  the  chief  beauty  of  Pratolino  is,  in  iny  eyes 
its  extraordinary  likeness  to  an  English  pleasure-ground,"  said 
Cecil.  "  It  has  just  that  green  wildness,  combined  with  trim 
order  and  cultivation,  so  perfectly  characteristic  of  England,  so 
seldom  seen  in  parched-up  Italy." 

"  Blaspheme  not !  "  laughed  Kate.  "  You  know  I  cannot 
bear  a  word  against  Italian  perfection." 

';  Save  when  we  have  what  is  still  better — English  perfec- 
tion," said  Cecil. 

"  Pity  it  is  so  rare  !  Once  in  a  hundred  years,  perhaps> 
we  have  such  a  perfect  day  as  this,  such  a  perfect  open-air  meal, 
such  perfect  association,  in  such  a  perfect  scene.  I  allow,  when 
you  do  attain  English  perfection,  there  is  not  its  equal.  But 
when,  alas  !  do  you  meet  with  it  ?  Once  in  a  century." 

"  The  more  precious  and  choice,  being  so  rare  !  Let  us 
make  the  most  of  its  aloe-like  bloom  and  beatitude,"  said  Cecil, 
true  to  his  propensity  for  enjoying  the  present  in  all  its  bright- 
ness, undulled  and  undisturbed  by  one  shadowing  thought  of 
past  or  future. 

The  conversation  flowed  on  gaily,  good-humouredly,  in  spright- 
ly, careless  ease,  each  one  feeling  the  force  of  Cecil's  pleasant 
philosophy. 

At  length  they  rose  from  table,  the  'Squire  proposing  that 
Fermor  should  show  Cecil  Lascelles  the  interior  of  the  fine  old 
house  ;  its  spacious  drawing-room,  its  noble  library,  suites  of 
wainscoted  apartments,  its  lofty  hall,  its  corridors,  galleries,  and 
staircase  of  polished  oak. 

"  And  you  must  not  forget  to  show  Mr.  Lascelles  that  inter- 
esting picture  which  hangs  in  the  '  lady's  morning-room,'  as  it 
used  to  be  called.  I  have  a  perfect  recollection  of  that  sweet 
painting,  and  of  the  room  itself,"  said  Miss  White.  "  I  quite 
dote  upon  that  room ;  it  is  so  charmingly  old-fashioned,  BO 
quaintly  furnished,  so  altogether  nice  !  " 

"  An  odd  corollary !  a  singularly  forceful,  expressive  cli- 
max ! "  said  Kate  Ireton.  "  What  a  strange  word  you  hav« 
found  to  sum  up  your  admiration  of  that  room,  Alicia." 


THI-:  IKON  COUSIN.  249 

11  Don't  you  think  it  nice,  Kate  ?  "  asked  she. 

"  Not  at  all ;  I  think  those  were  nice  strawberries  and  cream 
nice  nectarines,  nice  iced  plum-pudding,  nice  jellies,  we  had  just 
now ;  but  that  room  I  should  as  soon  think  of  calling  nice,  as  of 
savin;:  that  Westminster  Abbey  was  a  nice  cathedral ;  or  the  Alp* 
were  nice  mountains  ;  or  that  Bacon  was  a  nice  sweet  writer.'' 

"  Must  salt  and  savory,  rather  !  "  laughed  Cecil.  "  But  let 
us  go  and  see  this  favourite  room  of  Miss  White's,  and  we'll  try 
and  find  out  the  true  epithet  for  it,  amongst  us." 

"  And  you  must  see  the  picture, — quite  a  lovely  portrait, — 
and  so  like  the  brother,"  whispered  Alicia  White,  in  her  articulate 
aside. 

Kate  Ireton,  while  the  rest  gathered  round  the  painting,  sat 
quietly  down,  a  little  apart,  with  her  eyes  fixed  absently  upon 
the  object  opposite  to  her,  which  chanced  to  be  the  old  inlaid 
cabinet,  that  had  so  often  attracted  her  childish  speculation  as  to 
the  wonders  it  probably  contained. 

"  What  is  it  engages  your  attention,  Kate,  dear,  and  prevent* 
your  coming  to  see  that  exquisite  picture  ?  "  said  Miss  White, 
advancing  towards  her.  "  Oh,  I  see  !  that  handsome  cabinet. 
It  is  magnificently  wrought ;  and  I've  no  doubt  contains  some 
valuable  curiosities.  I  dare  say  you  will  grant  us  a  peep  into 
its  treasures,  Mr.  Worthington,  amongst  the  rest  of  the  beauti- 
ful things  you  have  been  showing  us  to-day  in  your  castle  of  en- 
chantment." 

"  Willingly,"  replied  Fermor,  taking  a  small  bunch  of  keys 
from  his  pocket,  and  applying  one  of  them  to  the  lock.  It  has 
been  in  the  family  since  no  one  can  tell  when  ;  and  has  been  a  re- 
pository of  all  sorts  of  odds  and  ends  in  its  time.  There  are  a 
*ew  coins  and  medals  worth  looking  at,  in  one  of  the  drawers ; 
and  in  two  or  three  of  the  others,  some  good  sheila." 

On  opening  the  outer  doors  of  the  cabinet,  they  revealed 
within,  a  double  range  of  side  drawers;  between  which  there 
was  a  recess  fitted  up  in  pigeon-holes  for  papers ;  and  along  the 
base,  there  ran  a  shallow  drawer,  which  occupied  the  whol* 
length  of  the  enclosure. 


250  THE    IKON    COUSIN. 

With  exemplary  patience  Ferraor  Worthington  gratified  Miss 
White's  eagerness  to  peep  into  one  after  the  other  of  these  vari- 
ous receptacles,  pulling  out  drawer  after  drawer  for  her,  answer- 
ing her  numerous  inquiries,  and  satisfying  her  minute  inquisi- 
tions relative  to  their  contents.  But  there  was  one  which  she  per- 
ceived he  invariably  passed  over,  evading  all  hints,  and  parrying 
all  attempts  to  have  it  opened  for  her  inspection.  This  was  tho 
long  shallow  drawer  beneath  the  rest.  At  first  she  thought  his 
not  following  her  lead  was  accidental ;  that  he  either  did  not 
notice,  or  did  not  understand  her  hints  ;  but  when  she  became 
aware  that  his  declining  to  open  this  drawer  was  intentional,  her 
curiosity  became  excited,  and  rose  to  an  almost  unbearable 
pitch,  from  the  stimulus  of  finding  itself  perpetually  frustrated. 

At  length  she  made  a  dash  at  procuring  her  own  relief ;  but 
just  as  she  was  going  to  draw  it  forth  herself,  in  an  easy,  takc- 
for-granted  way,  Fermor  Worthington  laid  his  hand  on  hers,  say- 
ing :  "  Pardon  me ;  there  is  nothing  there  that  will  interest  you 
— nothing  to  see." 

"  Fermor,  Cecil  and  I  are  going  to  the  stable,  to  have  a  peep 
at  your  stud,"  said  the  'Squire. 

"  I'll  go  with  you,"  replied  Fermor.  "  Miss  White,  I  fancy, 
has  seen  all  that  there  is  to  be  seen  in  this  nest  of  curiosities, 
and  can  dispense  with  their  showman." 

"  Thank  you  ;  oh,  yes  !  Yet  stay,  I  want  to  look  at  that  fine 
specimen  of  Nautilus  again.  But  don't  let  me  detain  you.  I 
can  examine  it  quite  well  by  myself." 

He  drew  forth  the  drawer  of  shells  containing  the  one  she 
mentioned,  and  went  away  with  the  'Squire  and  Cecil. 

Kate  Ireton  had  gone  to  the  old  nook  in  the  window-seat, 
and  was  lounging  peaceably  there,  looking  up  at  the  picture, 
when  she  heard  Alicia  say,  "  Nothing  to  see,  indeed  !  it's  all  but 
empty ! " 

"  Why,  you  surely  have  not  opened  that  drawer,  Alicia,  which 
you  found  he  did  not  show  you  himself !  " 

"  Why  not  ?  He  didn't  forbid  me  to  open  it.  And  after  all, 
there's  no  reason  why  he  should.  There  is  literally  nothing  to 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  251 

«ee  in  it  Nothing  whatever,  excepting  an  old  riding-whip,"  said 
Alicia  White,  as  she  closed  the  drawer  again.  "  He  could  not 
have  cared  whether  I  opened  it  or  no ;  but  he  had  begun  by  not 
opening  it,  and  therefore  persisted,  merely  for  persisting  sake. 
I  begin  to  think  you  are  quite  right,  Kate,  in  calling  him  '  tht 
Iron  Cousin.'  He's  monstrous  impenetrable ;  but  somehow  he's 
only  the  more  charming  and  manly  for  it.  Many  men  have  that 
way  with  them.  They  think  it  dignified.  But  with  a  little  pa- 
tience, a  woman  knows  how  to  win  her  way  through  all  that,  to 
humour  him,  and  get  him  to  be  not  so  dignified  and  impenetrable 
towards  her ;  and  that's  all  she  need  care  about.  And  I:m  sure 
he's  so  very  handsome,  and  so  gentlemanly,  and  so  altogether — 
altogether — nice  (you'll  laugh  at  me,  Kate,  dear,  but  I  don't 
mind  that,  from  you),  that  he's  worth  any  woman's  trying  to 
please." 

Miss  White  might  have  run  on  to  any  length ;  for,  since  the 
words  '  an  old  riding-whip,'  Kate  had  not  heard  one  syllable  of 
what  she  was  saying.  Her  thoughts  were  involuntarily  busying 
themselves  with  the  question  whether  this  could  be  the  whip  she 
had  believed  thrown  away  ;  but  which  was  thus  locked  apart,  and 
kept  from  indifferent  eyes. 

"  Don't  you  think  so,  Kate  ?  Why,  what  a  brown  study 
you're  in." 

Kate  started.  "  Don't  I  think  what  ?  "  she  said,  rousing  her- 
self from  her  fit  of  abstraction. 

"  Don't  you  think  Mr.  Worthington  is  worth  a  woman's  try- 
ing to  please  ?  " 

"It  depends  upon  the  woman,"  answered  Kate. 

"  But  any  woman,  I  mean.  He's  so  very  handsome,  and  dis- 
tinguished-looking,— he  might  be  a  nobleman,  from  his  air, — 
that  any  woman  might  feel  proud  to  endeavour  to  find  out  his 
tastes,  and  to  accommodate  herself  to  them,  and  to  please  him, 
in  short,  in  every  way  she  could." 

"  Some  women  would  bo  too  proud  to  do  anything  of  the 
kind,"  said  Kate. 

"  You  think  it  moan  to  try  to  please,  Kate.     Now,  I  think  it 


252  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

only  a  woman's  duty ;  it  is  so  right,  so  proper,  so  becoming,  in 
us  women  to  render  ourselves  as  agreeable  as  we  possibly  can,  to 
those  who  are  our  natural  protectors." 

"  It  may  be  very  wise,  very  prudent,  and  even  extremely  be- 
coming, Alicia  ;  you  have  a  talent  for  looking,  speaking,  and  act 
ing  becomingly — I  have  not.  I  can  only  be  natural ;  and  I 
believe  my  nature  is  rather  the  reverse  of  right  or  proper,  wise 
or  prudent." 

"  You  don't  do  yourself  justice,  you  don't  indeed,  Kato, 
dear,"  said  Alicia  White.  "  But  here  are  the  gentlemen  return- 
ing. Let  us  go  and  meet  them." 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

''  AND  how  did  my  darling  sleep,  through  all  the  roar  of  thunder 
last  night  ?  "  said  Matty,  coming  into  her  young  lady's  room, 
according  to  custom,  the  first  thing  in  the  morning ;  for  Kate 
Ireton,  knowing  how  it  would  pain  the  faithful  creature's  heart 
to  see  herself  displaced  by  a  younger  attendant,  had  never  taken 
a  waiting-maid,  but  remained  contented  with  Matty's  dressing. 
"  Did  the  lightning  waken  you  ?  It  was  very  strong.  Ben  tell? 
me  it  has  struck  more  than  one  tree  in  the  park ;  and  he  did  hea? 
that  it  has  knocked  down  a  good  few  at  Worthington  Court,  be 
sides  the  old  ice-house ;  and  that  it  hit  one  of  the  lodge-gates. 
It's  lucky  you  and  master,  and  the  rest,  was  returned  home 
afore  the  storm  come  on." 

"  The  lightning  has  done  mischief  at  Worthington  ?  "  ex 
claimed  Kate,  rapidly. 

"  Not  up  at  the  house,  deary  ;  only  about  the  place  ;  and  no 
great  mischief  there.  That  old  ramshackle  ice-house  was  of  no 
consequence ;  it  was  as  well  down  as  up,  or  better,  every  body 
always  said  it  was  quite  in  the  way,  stuck  where  it  was  ;  and  as 


THE    IKON    COUSIN.  253 

for  the  lodge,  it  was  only  the  gate, — not  the  lodge  itself, — whcr* 
the  keeper  and  his  wife  and  child  live." 

"  And  now,  Mattykin,  dress  me  in  no  time,  for  I  want  tr 
know  how  uncle  rested." 

"  And  how  am  I  to  dress  you  as  you  ought  to  be  dressed, 
pray,  this  day  of  all  days  in  the  year,  if  I'm  to  do  it  in  no  time?" 
taul  Matty. 

"  Why,  what  day  is  this,  that  it  should  have  me  grace  it 
with  extra  care  in  my  hair  brushing,  and  collar-pinning  ?  Oh, 
ay,  true,  my  birthday  !  You  would  remember  it,  Mattykin, 
wouldn't  you,  if  all  the  rest  of  the  world,  like  myself,  forgot  it  ?  " 

"  To  be  sure  I  should,  darling.  Quite  a  different  day  it  was 
— the  birthday  itself,  I  mean — the  day  you  were  born.  Black, 
and  bleak,  and  sullen,  and  cold,  for  all  it  was  summer-time.  But 
then  it  was  up  in  the  North,  you  know." 

"  Now,  Matty,  give  me  my  cuffs,  and  now,  one  last  pin,  and 
then  one  kiss — or  half-a  dozen,  if  you  will — and  then  let  me  run 
down  to  breakfast,  there's  a  dear  Mattykin  ;  and  I  promise  you 
to  find  some  half-hour  in  the  day  to  come  up  and  listen  to  all  the 
particulars  you  please  to  tell  me,  about  my  baby  self  on  my  first 
of  birthdays." 

She  found  all  the  party  assembled  in  the  breakfast-room,  in- 
cluding Fermor  Worthington,  who  had  ridden  over  to  inquire 
how  his  guests  of  the  preceding  day  had  reached  home,  and 
whether  they  were  housed  before  the  storm  began. 

"  This  is  your  glorious  English  weather  !  your  '  English  per- 
fection,' Cecil !  "  said  she.  "  Well  might  you  say,  enjoy  it  while 
we  may.  A  few  hours  have  sufficed  to  change  the  warmth  and 
sunshine  into  damp  and  discomfort ;  dripping  trees,  muddy  roads, 
and  lowering  sky." 

"  I  found  the  morning  by  no  means  unpleasant,"  said  Fcr- 
mor;  "the  rain  had  cooled  the  air;  the  thunder  and  lightning 
had  cleared  off  all  sultry  oppression.  The  drops  sparkling  on 
the  boughs  were  pleasant  to  the  eye,  and  the  leaves  looked  natu 
rated  with  the  welcome  refreshment.  My  how  and  I  quite  en 
joyed  our  early  ride." 


254  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  Fawn-foot  has  probably  imbibed  some  of  his  master's  strange 
taste  for  disagreeables,"  laughed  Kate,  "  or  he  would  not  like 
plodding  through  sludge  and  mire  to  pay  a  duty  visit  at  seven 
o'clock  in  the  morning." 

"  The  early  hour  shows  it  to  be  no  mere  ceremonial  call ; 
moreover,  it  has  a  double  pleasure  instead  of  a  simple  duty  for 
its  object.  The  one  I  have  already  had,  in  learning  that  you  all 
got  home  well;  and  the  other  I  now  take,  in  wishing  many 
happy  returns  of  her  birthday  to  Kate,  and  to  those  who  love 
her." 

"  Is  this  your  birthday,  Kate,  dear  ?  Let  me  wish  you  joy  1 '' 
said  Alicia  White. 

"  Of  what  ?  Of  being  a  year  nearer  to  being  old  and  ugly  ?  " 
laughed  she.  "  But  I  thank  you  for  your  kind  wish,  Alicia. 
though  I  dare  say  it  involves  my  reaching  that  dire  condition." 

"  Which  is  remote  enough  from  your  present  one,  to  let  you 
contemplate  it  with  a  very  comfortable  degree  of  indifference  for 
a  long  while  to  come,"  said  Cecil,  in  the  same  tone.  "  The  age 
of  eighteen  can  afford  to  look  steadily  at  the  prospect  of 
wrinkles  and  white  hairs.  Distance  wonderfully  softens  its  ter- 
rors." 

"  That  was  a  very  fair  craft-bait,  Cecil,  to  fish  out  niy  age. 
I  give  you  credit  for  your  artifice,  but  it  shall  not  succeed." 

<(  Kate  giving  credit  to  anything  that  has  a  hint  of  artifice  in 
it !  "  said  Fermor.  u  She  is  plainness  and  straightforwardness 
itself." 

"  I  merely  admit  its  ingenuity  ;  while  I  show  my  disapproval, 
by  not  suffering  it  to  gain  its  end,"  she  said. 

"  And  what  if  I  ask  the  question  in  blunt,  downright  form  ?  " 
smiled  Cecil. 

"  You  would  be  likely  to  get  a  blunt,  downright  negative  in 
return,"  she  answered.  "  And  there  would  you  be,  as  far  as 
ever  from  attaining  your  object,  after  having  committed  the 
rudeness  of  putting  a  question,  which  in  no  form  is  reckoned  dis- 
treet." 

"  Discretion  may  venture  an  enquiry,  where  Sincerity  risks 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  255 

nothing  in  satisfying  it,"  replied  Cecil,  gaily.  '  Ten  years  hence, 
Discretion  might  hesitate,  feeling  that  he  put  Sincerity  to  the 
trst,  and  tempted  it  to  belie  its  nature,  by  playing  false  to  its 
sister  Truth,  and  having  recourse  to  some  distant  kinsfolk,  and 
poor  relations,  called  White  Lies ;  but  now  that  Sincerity  can 
answer  honestly  with  perfect  safety,  Discretion  asks  questions, 
fearless  of  being  bid  to  add  the  prefix  of  I  N  to  his  name,  for  his 
pains." 

"  But  Discretion  can  count  on  his  fingers,  or  reckon  in  his 
wise  head  ;  and  when  the  ten  years  are  over,  he  will  have  added 
up  a  sum  to  Sincerity's  discredit.  No  ;  there  is  nothing  for  Dis- 
cretion, if  he  wish  to  preserve  his  character,  but  to  hold  his 
peace,  lay  his  finger  on  his  lips,  bid  his  tongue  keep  still,  and  his 
curiosity  be  quiet." 

•'  Discretion  is  silenced,  if  not  convinced,"  said  Cecil. 

The  post-bag  being  here  brought  in,  and  found  to  contain 
letters  for  the  'Squire,  Cecil,  and  Alicia,  they  were  left  in  peace 
to  peruse  them  ;  Kate  sauntering  over  to  the  window-seat,  whither 
Ferinor  soon  after  followed  her. 

"  No  riding,  such  a  dank,  dismal  morning  as  this !  "  she  said, 
looking  ruefully  out  upon  the  steaming  earth  and  moist  grass ; 
with  the  sun  veiled  and  misty,  threatening  every  moment  to  with- 
draw his  countenance,  and  yield  the  day  to  the  dominion  of  rain 
ami  shower. 

"  Then  we  must  try  and  spend  a  cheerful,  pleasant  one  in- 
doors ;  no  great  difficulty,  with  such  materials  at  hand.  Three 
or  four  people  assembled  together,  who  like  each  other,  who  have 
tastes  and  opinions  in  common,  yet  who  are  sufficiently  dissimi- 
lar in  character  to  differ  amicably,  and  contend  playfully,  can  al- 
ways contrive  to  pass  their  time  in  happy  independence  of  tirm-, 
place,  or  weather,"  said  Fernior. 

"  Yet  weather  is  a  serious  drawback  to  perfect  enjoyment.'' 
replied  Kate.  "  Even  when  comfortably  and  snugly  housed,  the 
looking  out  upon  a  bright,  sunshiny  day,  is  a  very  different  affair 
tV<>ni  1'Hikiiiir  l'"rth  upon  dreary,  pouring  wet.  The  one  is  an  in- 
lv  dtTiLflitt'iil  <  nliaiiccinrnt  of  holiday  feeling;  the  other  is  a 
ihmjt  in  it.; 


256  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  That  is  because  you  have  a  lively  imagination,  a  sensitivi 
temperament,  and  are  of  an  impressionable  nature,"  replied  Fer- 
mor  Worthington. 

"  There's  one  of  the  advantages  of  being  of  an  iron  constitu- 
tion," she  rejoined.  "  Such  natures  are  impervious  to  effects  of 
weather,  exempt  from  climatal  and  atmospheric  influences,  in- 
sensible to  seasonal  changes,  unsubject  to  ascendancy  of  earth, 
sea,  or  sky.  Yet  sometimes  the  elements  compel  even  these 
stubborn  impenetrables  to  yield,  and  submit  to  their  decrees,  and 
confess  that  the  powers  of  the  air  transcend  their  small  mighty 
power — of  will.  I  hear  that  last  night's  lightning  struck  the  old 
ice-house,  and  levelled  it  with  the  ground.  No  human  power 
was  to  avail,  in  overthrowing  it ;  but  even  iron  wills  must  be  con- 
tent to  give  way,  when  Tempests  exert  theirs,  and  enforce  it  with 
a  thunder-bolt." 

"  It  was  struck,  but  not  thrown  down ;  scathed,  but  not  de 
stroyed,"  said  Fermor,  quietly.  "  What  damage  was  done,  ib 
this  morning  being  repaired ;  workmen  are  now  employed  restor- 
ing the  roof,  which  was  the  only  portion  injured." 

"  Why,  this  is  very  midsummer  madness  !  A  fit  of  strange 
iron  delirium.  A  kind  of  disease  for  which  we  shall  have  to  in- 
vent a  cure — a  feropathy ;  or  we  must  discover  and  prescribe 
some  medicinal  waters  the  very  reverse  of  chalybeate.  Truly, 
cousin  mine,  I  fear  for  your  sanity." 

"  Can  you  not  understand  that  there  is  some  grave  reason  be- 
neath this  apparent  caprice  of  obstinacy  ?  Kate,  hear  me  seri- 
ously, while  I  explain  to  you  the  truth." 

"  Not  I,  indeed ;  I  am  in  no  Lumour  for  serious  talk  to-day ; 
let  us  give  the  rein  to  nonsense,  let's  indulge  in  nothing  but  ab- 
surdity ;  since  you  have  begun  the  morning  by  what  appears  to 
me  to  be  the  height  of  both.  It  well  suits  the  present  occasion — 
your  whimsical  cousin  Kate's  birthday.  Come,  good  people," 
she  added,  turning  to  the  bthers  ;  "  if  you  have  finished  reading 
your  letters,  what  say  you  to  passing  into  the  next  room,  where 
we  shall  find  the  last  new  packet  of  books  and  magazines  from 
town  ?  " 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  25? 

"  And  where  we  shall  find  something  else,  I  fancy,"  whispered 
the  'Squire  to  Ferraor  Worthington,  as  they  followed  Kate, 
Alicia,  and  Cecil,  into  the  oak-parlour,  as  it  was  called ;  a  largo, 
handsome  apartment,  which  formed  their  principal  sitting-room 
'*  I  heard  the  men  bringing  it  in,  the  first  thing  this  morning,  be- 
fore we  were  up.  I  wonder  how  she'll  take  it  ?  "  added  he,  with 
a  little  doubting  laugh,  that  betrayed  some  anxiety. 

"  Let  us  see,"  said  Fermor,  smiling,  and  advancing  with  a 
firm,  quick  stop. 

Kat(!  had  scarcely  entered  the  room,  ere  she  perceived  the 
important  addition  to  its  furniture.  "  A  piano-forte  !  "  she  ex- 
chimed.  "  The  roc's  egg !  The  very  thing  which,  if  I  had  al- 
lowed myself  to  indulge  in  princessly  sighingsfor  impossible  pos- 
sessions, I  should  have  desired  !  The  very  thing  of  all  others 
which,  if  any  fairy  godmother  had  given  me  my  choice,  I  should 
have  picked  out  to  ask  for  !  " 

As  she  ran  her  fingers  over  the  keys,  bringing  out  its  fine 
tone,  and  attesting  its  first-rate  excellence,  she  said :  "  And  yet, 
ah,  you  naughty  uncle !  Instead  of  letting  you  see  my  de- 
light, I  ought,  I  believe,  to  scold  you,  for  laying  out  your 
money  upon  so  expensive  a  purchase  for  your  Kate's  birthday 
present." 

"  'Tis  none  of  mine,  Kate,"  said  her  uncle. 

"No!"  she  exclaimed,  looking  up  in  extreme  surprise, 
rhich  covered  her  face  with  a  sudden  blush,  vivid,  and  very 
beautiful. 

"  No,"  replied  he  ;  "  it  was  Former's  thought ;  it  is  his 
gift." 

The  glow  of  colour  still  in  her  checks,  and  her  eyes  beaming 
with  its  bright  effect,  Kate  went  forward,  and  put  her  hand  into 
,  Diving: — •' It  is  none  the  less  welcome.  I  say  the 
tiling  I  can,  in  saying  that.  I  shall  prize  it  quite  as 
much  as  if  it  had  been  uncle's  present." 

Ilrr  iiKiim.T,  her  \\.inls,  had  something  of  the  simplicity  and 
earnestness  of  a  child.  As  a  young  girl,  Kate  had  seemed  older 
than  she  was,  by  her  ability  in  expressing  herself ;  and  now,  *n  a 


258  THE   IRON    COUSOT. 

grown  woman,  a  certain  straightforward,  child-like  way,  thai 
characterized  her,  often  made  her  petulance  and  perverse- 
ness  pass  off  more  gracefully  than  they  otherwise  would  have 
done. 

Fermor  Worthington  held  the  given  hand  in  both  his,  as  ho 
said  : — "  Thank  you,  Kate  !  Thank  you,  Kate  !  If  it  bring 
you  but  half  the  pleasure  your  frank  acceptance  has  given  me, 
the  roc's  egg  will  have  kept  truer  promise  than  its  original." 

"  And  I  suppose  you  expect  me  to  play,  with  these  cramped 
fingers  ?  "  she  said,  laughing,  as  she  withdrew  her  hand.  "  How 
came  I  to  venture  them  within  the  Iron  Cousin's  grip,  knowing 
it  of  old  ?  He  lames  you,  and  then  thinks  you  qualified  to  do 
justice  to  his  gift.  Reasonable  dealing,  truly  !  But  I'll  do  my 
best  to  pleasure  him,  for  once,  in  spite  of  his  iron  treatment,  since 
he  has  so  greatly  pleased  me." 

She  sat  down,  and  accompanied  herself  in  the  air  she  knew 
he  best  liked ;  and  then  rising,  she  begged  Alicia  to  give  them 
his  favourite  sonata,  which  she  named. 

"  My  dear  child,  I  am  glad  that  you  took  Former's  gift  so 
kindly,"  said  her  uncle  to  her  afterwards,  as  she  was  hanging 
over  the  instrument,  and  letting  her  fingers  wander  caressingly 
and  lingeringly  up  and  down  its  ivory  smoothness,  as  if  its  very 
touch  were  pleasant  to  her ;  "  do  you  know,  I  was  half  afraid 
you  mightn't  approve,  when  you  found  it  wasn't  mine,  but 
Fermor's." 

"  Why  not  ?  "  said  she  quickly. 

"  Because,  you  know,  my  dear,  a  piano-forte  costs  a  great 
deal  of  money  ;  and  as  you've  often  found  fault  with  me,  when  I 
lay  out  what  you  think  too  much  on  a  present  for  you,  I  didn't 
know  but  you  might  object  to  Fermor's  doing  the  same  thing." 

"  Oh,  I've  no  mercy  on  his  pocket,"  laughed  she  ;  "  he's  mad<» 
of  gold — for  all  he's  the  iron  cousin." 

"  He  has  a  heart  of  gold,"  said  the  'Squire. 

"  Being  made  of  gold,  the  heart's  included,  of  course,1'  she  said. 
"  Put,  you  know,  uncle,  witli  regard  to  the  costliness  of  the  gift — • 
had  it  been  a  piece  of  music  that  came  but  to  a  shilling  or  two, 


THE   IRON    COUSIN.  259 

I  should  have  accepted  it ;  why  not  this  ?  The  pleasure  of  a 
gift  is  not  in  its  cost ;  why  should  the  difference  of  price  occasion 
any  hesitation  in  the  acceptanct  ?  " 

"  Quite  true,  my  Kate/'  said  her  uncle. 

"  Feeling  too,  that  if  I  had  a  mind  to  give  my  cousin  some- 
thing I  knew  he  liked,  I  should  not  think  of  the  price,  were  it 
within  my  means.  I  had  no  difficulty  in  taking  his  present,  be- 
lieving that  he  felt  just  the  same  thing." 

"  Once  more — thank  you,  thank  you,  Kate,"  said  the  low,  ear- 
nest voice  of  Fermor  Worthington,  near  to  her. 

"  I  did  not  know  you  were  within  hearing,"  she  said.  "  But 
there  is  the  comfort  of  always  speaking  as  one  thinks,  after  the 
fa.shiou  of  your  plain-spoken  cousin  Kate  ;  no  need  to  fear  being 
overheard.  Contrary  to  the  usual  fate  of  listeners,  you  have 
learned  something  that  does  not  displease  you,  it  seems." 

"  That  pleases  me  more  than  I  can  express,"  said  Fermor. 
"  It  has  proved  to  me  that  my  cousin  Kate  has  the  right-mind. 
i'il  simplicity  in  h<;r  way  of  thinking  about  money-matters,  which 
K!I<'  always  had  ;  and  that  she  does  the  iron  cousin  some  justice, 
tli ough  she  so  often  seems  inclined  to  be  hard  upon  him." 

"  Oh,  the  stickler  for  justice  I  "  she  exclaimed.  "And  pray, 
with  whom  should  I  be  hard,  if  not  with  the  iron  cousin, — my 
own  iron  cousin  ?  Nothing  will  make  an  impression  on  some 
substances,  but  their  own  cqui-hardness.  It  is  diamond  cut  dia- 
mond between  us  two." 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

'I'm:  [>i:uiu  forte  in  tin-  oak-parlour  brought  l-irg«'  :i«Mition  to  tlir 
plca-uro  of  the  circle  at  Heathcoto  Hall.  Alicia  White  wn» 
untiring  in  her  readiness  to  oblige  her  friends  with  as  much  of 
ner  really  admiral)!.'  playing  as  they  de»ired ;  and  they  were  not 
sparing  in  their  dcmaii.l*.  It  was  a  touree  of  genuine  delight  to 
them  all,  with  one  exception.  This  was  Cecil  Lascelles,  who 


260  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

cared  little  for  instrumental  music.  He  had  great  enjoyment  in 
vocal  music,  and  was  no  contemptible  singer  himself.  He  had  a 
sweet-toned,  manly,  tenor  voice ;  sang  well  in  tune,  and  with 
good  taste  and  expression.  He  was  especially  fond  of  the  Italian 
school,  both  in  opera  and  church  music.  While  the  'Squire  and 
Fermor  Worthington  got  Kate  to  sing  one  of  the  divine  airs  of 
Handel  or  Mozart,  and  incited  her  to  master  more  of  them  for 
their  gratification,  Cecil  would  lure  her  back  to  some  of  their  old 
Pergola  favourites,  reminding  her  of  the  Prima  Donna's  sccna  in 
such  a  piece,  or  that  bit  of  soft  chorus  in  another,  or  that  perfect 
trio  in  a  third.  When  Miss  White  played — were  it  the  finest 
concerto  in  her  collection — he  would  sit  it  out  merely,  resigning 
himself  to  its  continuance,  but  evidently  without  one  spark  of 
enjoyment.  On  the  contrary,  when  Kate  stumbled  out,  ever  so 
imperfectly,  her  reminiscences  of  opera  music,  to  please  him,  he 
would  listen  with  interested  attention  and  thorough  pleasure. 

She  would  sometimes,  laughingly,  bid  him  remember  that  she 
was  avowedly  no  musician,  and  that  she  found  it  impossible  to 
repeat  all  the  numberless  beauties  he  went  on  recalling  to  her 
memory  ;  but  he  persevered,  and  insisted  that  she,  "  of  coirrsc, 
could  recollect  them,  if  she  would  but  try." 

"  I  recollect  them,  yes ;  but  to  play  them,  or  sing  them — 
altra  cosa  !  "  she  said. 

One  evening  he  ran  tip  to  his  room,  and  returned  with  an 
armful  of  piano-forte  scores,  of  different  operas,  which  he  had 
had  sent  down  from  town,  on  purpose,  as  he  said,  that  she  might 
now  have  no  excuse,  since  Miss  White  would  be  so  kind  as  to 
play  the  accompaniment  for  them,  while  they  could  pick  out  what 
they  liked,  to  sing. 

They  went  on  for  some  evenings  thus,  much  to  Cecil's  de- 
light, turning  over  leaves,  humming  bits  here  and  there,  skipping 
the  bravuras,  leaving  out  the  bass  songs  and  duets,  eschewing  the 
too  great  difficulties,  and  pouncing  on  all  the  melodious  passages, 
and  favourite  scraps.  This  heterogeneous  medley  was  all  very 
entertaining  and  charming,  no  doubt,  to  themselves,  who  could 
supply  from  memory  and  imagination  the  gaps  that  were  left, 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  201 

and  the  hiatuses  that  they  ruthlessly  made,  but  was  much  less 
amusing  to  their  hearers.  Miss  White  found  means  to  escape 
from  her  post  of  accoinpanyist,  which  did  not  at  all  suit  her  to 
fill,  and  loft  thorn  to  potter  out  for  themselves,  as  well  as  they 
could.  But  this  did  not  a  whit  disturb  them  ;  they  were  now  too 
far  entered  upon  the  dear  delight  of  looking  through  music  fuiui- 
liar  to  them  through  pleasant  remembrance ;  and  every  one  who 
has  experienced  this,  can  understand  their  enjoyment. 

The  'Squire — as  usual,  when  any  gratification  of  Kate's  was 
in  question — soon  learned  to  accommodate  himself  to  the  change ; 
and  gave  up  hearing  the  sort  of  music  he  liked,  for  the  sake  of 
peeing  her  interested  and  pleased.  At  first,  he  much  missed  the 
nightly  game  of  chess,  which  Cecil  used  to  play  with  him ;  but 
this  was  supplied  by  Fermor  Worthiugton,  who,  finding  his  old 
friend  sitting  beside  the  chess-table  one  evening  with  the  pieces 
ready  ranged,  and  vainly  awaiting  the  advent  of  Cecil,  then  deeply 
ciifrn.ire.d  with  Kate  at  the  piano,  volunteered  to  become  the 
'Squire's  antagonist. 

Alicia  White  established  herself  and  her  mother-o'-pearl  work- 
box  close  beside  them,  with  the  avowed  purpose  of  watching  the 
game,  and  endeavouring  to  learn  the  moves;  and  thus  evening 
after  evening  passed  away,  more  satisfactorily  to  two  of  the  party 
than  to  the  others. 

"  1'ermor,  my  boy,  if  I  did  not  think  you  rather  allowed  me 
to  take  a  few  pieces  just  now,  I  should  triumph  in  that  glorious 
cheek-mate  I  have  given  you  1 "  said  the  'Squire,  on  one  occasion. 
"  I  suppose  it's  too  late  to  begin  another  game;  and  yet  those  two 
have  not  finished  their  batch  of  music.  What  cormorants  your 
amateurs  are!  Never  tired  of  their  favourite  morsels !  But  let 
them  go  on.  She  enjoys  it;  that's  enough  ! ' 

"  Are  we  never  to  have  any  more  of  Miss  White's  delightful 
playing,  'Squire  ?"  said  Fermor.  "She  is  grown  chary  of  indulg- 
ing us  now." 

'•  Not  in  the  least,  I  assure  you.  I  am  at  all  times  most  wil- 
ling to  play  as  much  as  you  and  the  dear 'Squire  like.  Mr.  Worth- 
ington.  But — "  and  she  looked  expressively  towards  the  iustru 
ment. 


262  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

There  came  a  pause  in  the  music,  soon  after ;  and  then  For- 
mer "Worthington  went  up  to  Kate,  and  said :  "  Miss  White  is 
kind  enough  to  promise  us  a  sonata  this  evening." 

"  I  would  not  for  the  world  disturb  you,  Kate,  dear  !  "  added 
Alicia,  as  she  followed  to  the  piano ;  "  but  as  Mr.  Worthington 
asked  me  to  play,  I  cannot  refuse." 

"  Certainly  not;  I  have  been  very  thoughtless — very  forget- 
ful," said  Kate,  earnestly.  "  We  have  monopolized  the  instrument 
shamefully,  Cecil,  in  our  attempts  to  recall  bygone  pleasures,  and 
have  thus  neglected  an  actual  one.  We  are  punished  for  our  pains, 
Deing  ourselves  the  greatest  losers ;  otherwise,  I  should  apologize 
to  you,  Alicia,  for  my  apparent  rudeness." 

There  was  something  in  this  speech  which  spoiled  Fermor's 
pleasure  upon  hearing  Kate  speak  with  so  much  sincere  courtesy. 
He  did  not  analyse  what  this  something  was ;  he  did  not  know 
that  it  was  the  sound  of  the  two  little  words  "  we  "  and  <(  our  " 
which  coupled  herself  and  Cecil  in  a  mutual  delinquency.  He 
only  felt  the  impression,  without  asking  himself  its  source  ;  and 
he  was  soon  occupied  in  attending  to  Alicia's  playing. 

"  I  have  not  forgotten,  my  dear,  that  the  little  bird  is  to  have 
his  share  of  the  pleasure  he  has  procured  us,"  said  the  'Squire, 
when  Alicia  came  to  the  close.  "  Will  Huntley  is  passionately 
fond  of  music,  as  I  told  you  ;  so  I  have  asked  him  and  Mrs. 
Huntley  to  dine  with  us,  and  spend  the  evening  here,  to-morrow, 
to  hear  you  play  ;  and  I  am  sure  you  will  gratify  him  and  us  with 
all  your  favourite  pieces." 

"With  the  greatest  pleasure,  dear  'Squire!"  replied  Alicia 
White. 


Mr.  Huntley  was  a  regular  country  'squire  and  sportsman ;  the 
only  thing  upon  earth  he  really  cared  for,  besides  hunting,  was 
music.  That,  he  was  excessively  partial  to,  and  possessed  native 
good  taste  in  his  preference  for  the  best  of  its  kind.  During  din- 
ner, he  appeared  merely  the  good-hearted,  easy,  gossiping  neigh- 
bour he  was ;  but,  when  evening  came,  and  with  it  music,  he  was 
awakened  into  intelligence  and  enthusiasm. 


THE  IRON  rousfN. 

His  conversation  was  chiefly  county  chit-chat  with  his  old 
friend  Heathcotc,  and  an  occasional  good-humoured  joke  with  the 
young  people ;  whilst  Mrs.  Huntley  was  superbly  affable,  in  pur- 
ple satin  and  pink  topazes. 

"  Young  Braddcley  is  now  Sir  James,"  said  Mr.  Huntley. 
"The  old  Baronet's  dead,  and  left  the  young  'uu  a  mint  o' 
money." 

"  I've  often  heard  you  speak  of  the  Braddeleys,  Will,  but 
never  happened  to  meet  either  father  or  son,"  said  the  'Squire. 

"He's  a  wild  young  chap,  they  say;  but  I've  nothing  to  do 
with  his  morals,  not  being  his  godfather,  you  know;  and  as  his 
dad  and  I  were  school-fellows,  why,  he  has  always  been  welcome, 
whenever  he  has  chosen  to  come  over  and  stay  with  us.  Talking  of 
dying  rich — there's  one,  we  know,  will  cut  up  for  something  hand- 
some ;  I  shouldn't  wonder,  a  good  round  sum.  Old  Scrimpum,  I 
mean ;  he  must  be  a  warm  old  codger ;  he's  always  been  so  cursed 
close  and  hugger-mugger ;  and  he's  made  a  pretty  penny  in  his 
time,  I'll  be  bound.  What  should  you  think  he's  worth  ?  " 

"  Not  a  single  sixpence,  I  should  say,"  said  Kate. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Ireton  I  Why,  he  has  sixteen  thousand  pounds 
in  the  Dinglcton  Bank  alone,  to  my  certain  knowledge  I"  said  .Mr. 
Huntley. 

"Oh!  hc'.s  rich  enough ;  but  you  ask  what  he's  worth.  Now, 
if  you'll  take  my  valuation — not  sixpence;  at  least,  I  wouldn't 
give  sixpence  for  him,  the  miserable  animal !  He  refused  a  pound 
to  a  charitable  subscription  for  a  poor  widow  woman,  that  Dr. 
Meadows  and  uncle  both  asked  him  to  contribute  to,"  said  Kate ; 
"  giving  as  his  reason,  that  he  didn't  choose  to  encourage  begging 
impostors.  As  if  women  became  widows  expressly  to  excite  com- 
passion, and  impose  on  goodnature." 

.Mrs.  Huutley  beguiled  the  todious  period  in  the  drawing-room 
wliih-  they  were  taking  coffee,  and  expecting  the  gentlemen  from 
their  wine,  by  a  magnificent  account  of  the  approaching  grand  pub- 
lic ball,  of  which  she  was  to  be  patroness,  in  conjunction  with  fivu 
other  loading  county  ladies.  "  It  will  be  quite  a  superior  and 
•elect  affair,"  she  said.  "Wo  intend  to  be  very  j>arti<'iilur  and 


VJ64  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

exclusive  in  the  issuing  of  tickets.  We  shall  only  grant  them  to 
applicants  giving  the  most  respectable  and  unexceptionable  refer 
ences." 

"  Meaning  those  who  can  pay  for  their  tickets,  dress  credita- 
bly, and  not  trudge  there  on  foot,  I  presume,"  said  Kate. 

"  I  mean,  that  tradespeople,  and  other  ineligible  persons,  will, 
of  course,  be  refused  cards,"  said  Mrs.  Huntley. 

"  Those  who  can't  dance,  or  can't  enjoy  society,  for  instance," 
observed  Kate.  "  All  ill-looking,  lame,  or  crippled  folks,  rank 
among  the  ineligibles,  of  course.  No  hump-backed,  crooked,  or 
deformed  candidates  need  apply.  No  entrance  given  to  sprained 
ankles.  Persons  in  spectacles  not  admitted. r 

"  Why  not  ?  "  said  Alicia  White.  "  I  am  sure  I  have  known 
some  most  respectable  people  wear  spectacles.  Doctors,  clergy- 
men, scientific  gentlemen,  blue  ladies,  professors  of  all  sorts  of 
ologies  and  ometries,  often  wear  glasses ;  which,  I  think,  add  to 
respectability  of  appearance,  instead  of  diminishing  it." 

"  A  pretty  list  of  eligibles  for  a  ball-room  you  have  named, 
Alicia  !  "  laughed  Kate  Ireton.  "  Mrs.  Huntley  would  disdain 
having  such  a  crew  of  old  fogies  at  her  ball." 

"  Ay,  but  I've  seen  very  young  doctors  and  curates,  and 
quite  juvenile  blue-stockings,  wear  spectacles,"  persisted  Alicia. 

"That  must  be  because  they're  short-sighted,"  said  Kate ; 
"  and  short-sighted  people  have  no  business  in  a  ball-room. 
They  only  blunder  about,  and  confuse  the  rest,  and  spoil  the 
general  pleasure — the  general  pleasure  being  Mrs.  Huntley's 
great  object." 

"  You  do  me  no  more  than  justice,  my  dear  Miss  Ireton  ; 
our  chief  aim  is  to  secure  the  greatest  possible  comfort  and  con- 
venience, with  brilliant  entertainment." 

"  And  exclusiveness,"  said  Kate. 

"  Exactly  so  ;  there  is  positively  no  enjoyment  in  too  mixed 
an  assembly.  The  only  way  is,  to  keep  it  very  genteel  and 
select." 

''•  By  way  of  ensuring  the  largest  amount  of  general  enjoy- 
ment. The  secret  of  disseminating  pleasure  is  curious.  No 


THE    IRON    CO!  265 

wonder  that  it  takes  six  lady-patronesses  to  organize  a  county- 
ball,  so  that  it  shall  produce  the  best  effect,  and  give  universal 
satisfaction." 

At  night,  when  the  Huntleys  were  gone,  Alicia  White  re- 
curred to  the  topic,  launching  forth  on  the  delights  of  dancing, 
and  the  charms  of  a  gay,  well-conducted  ball. 

"  I  never  was  at  a  ball  in  my  life,"  said  Kate.  "  It  must  be 
a  curious  scene  ;  most  amusing,  for  once  or  so." 

"•  How  coolly  and  philosophically  you  talk  of  it,  Kate,  dear  I 
That  shows  you  have  never  been  to  one,  or  you  would  not  be  so 
indifferent,"  said  Alicia. 

"  Is  it  so  very  delightful,  then  ?  " 

"  Oh,  the  delightfullest  thing  upon  earth  !.  I  think  a  ball 
the  most  chariniug  way  of  spending  an  evening  ever  invented. 
Concerts,  plays,  operas,  dinner-parties,  are  all  nice — very  nice 
indeed  ;  but  a  ball  is  the  nicest  of  the  nice  among  amusements." 


Next  day,  Cecil  Lascelles  came  into  the  oak-parlour,  saying 
he  had  been  over  to  pay  his  respects  to  Mrs.  Huutley,  and  to 
inquire  how  she  had  reached  home. 

"  And  on  the  strength  of  my  relationship  to  an  elderly  gen- 
tleman who  writes  himself  peer  of  England,  and  wears  a  coronet, 
the  lady-patroness  vouchsafed  to  consider  me  qualified  to  make 
myself  possessor  of  these,"  he  said,  taking  four  cards  from  his 
pocket,  and  laying  them  before  Kate  Ireton.  "  You  will,  I  hope, 
allow  your  uncle  and  myself  to  be  your  cavaliers,  and  give  Mis* 
White  her  favourite  pleasure — '  the  nicest  of  the  nice  among 
uinu-cinents.' " 

"  Tickets  for  the  county  ball ! "  exclaimed  Kate,  with  spark- 
ling eyes.  "  That  will  be  a  treat !  how  much  I  shall  enjoy  it  f 
My  first  ball !  and  all  the  odd  amusing  people  we  shall  meet. 
How  new,  how  entertaining  it  will  be  1 " 

'•  Alia  !  our  philosophercss  is  beginning  to  show  her  young- 
pirl  nature  at  the  mention  of  her  maiden  ball.  Miss  White ! "  wai 
II 


266  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

Cecil's  gay  exclamation.  "  Instinct  is  truer  than  reason.  The 
dance  in  abstract,  and  the  dance  in  actual  prospect,  have  two 
very  different  effects." 

"  You  mean,  that  the  promised  ball,  like  the  mouse  peeping 
from  the  wainscot  in  the  fable,  brings  to  light  the  real  kitten 
propensity,"  laughed  Kate. 

"  Precisely  so,"  returned  Cecil.  "  We  shall  have  you  play- 
ing tricks  before  a  looking-glass,  and  running  after  your  ball, 
like  the  vainest  and  giddiest  young  puss  that  ever  called  forth 
reprehension  from  tabby  demureness." 

"  To  be  sure,  Kate,  dear ;  we  all  in  our  hearts  love  a  ball  ; 
and  for  my  part,  I  don't  mind  owning  my  folly,  if  it  be  folly, 
to  enjoy  dancing^  and  gay  company,  and  a  brilliant  scene.  And 
talking  of  that,  we  must  not  forget  to  order  our  ball-dresses. 
I  shall  write  to  town  to  Madame  Colifichet,  by  to-day's  post,  and 
desire  her  to  send  me  something  distinguished  and  elegant ;  I 
shall  merely  mention  colour  and  material,  and  leave  the  rest  to 
her  taste — for  she  has  perfect  taste,  I  must  own.  You'd  better 
let  me  order  you  a  dress  of  her  at  the  same  time,  Kate,  dear. 
You  may  safely  trust  it  to  her  ;  she'll  be  sure  to  choose  some- 
thing very  lovely  and  new ;  she  has  the  last  fashions  from  Paris, 
and  her  own  style  is  excellent.  'Squire,  you'll  give  me  carte- 
blanche  for  a  ball-dress  for  Kate,  won't  you  ?  " 

"  By  no  means,"  said  Kate,  quickly.  "  Uncle,  I'll  never 
forgive  you,  if  you  interfere  with  my  dress.  I've  made  up  my 
own  mind  what  I  shall  wear  ;  and  I  promise  you  it  shall  be  as 
handsome  and  tasteful  as  any  ball-dress  there.  It  shall  not  dis- 
grace you  ;  it  shall  be  worthy  of  'Squire  Heathcote  of  Heathcoto 
Hall's  niece.  Thank  you  very  much,  Alicia,  for  your  offer ;  but 
I  have  a  ball-dress  in  my  eye,  that  shall  all  but  rival  yours.  Tako 
care  it  does  not  eclipse  it." 

"  I  have  no  fear  of  that,  Kate,  dear,"  said  Miss  White,  with 
a  sweet  smile,  serenely  confident  in  the  skill,  taste,  and  style  of 
Madame  Colifichet.  '  But,  at  any  rate,  your  uncle  must  let  me 
order  you  a  wreath ;  French  flowers  are  really  the  only  one»  fit 
to  put  on." 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  26? 

"  Not  a  spray,  not  a  bud,'  said  Kate,  authoritatively.  "  Un 
cle,  I  insist  upon  it,  that  you  leave  me  and  my  toilette  alone , 
if  you  dare  to  meddle  with  so  much  as  a  single  hair-pin,  I  shall 
know  that  you're  afraid  of  trusting  my  word,  and  your  Kate'« 
taste."- 

"  After  that,  my  dear,  I've  no  more  to  say,"  said  her  uncle. 

"  You  promise  UIQ  ?  "  she  said. 

<;  Why,  you  unconscionable  hussy  1  you  expect  me  to  trust 
your  word,  and  it  seems,  won't  trust  me." 

"  I  know  you,  uncle,  and  your  tricks,  of  old.  If  I  did  not 
bind  you  down  by  a  solemn  contract,  you'd  disobey,  and  get 
Alicia  to  write  after  all,  for  a  dress  from  town  for  me." 

Her  uncle  smiled,  and  shook  his  head  at  her. 

"  Come,  come,  promise  !  "  she  said. 

"  Well,  I  do,"  he  answered.  "  But  mind,  I  shall  be  really 
an<2ry  if  you're  not  properly  dressed.  I  shall  choose  my  Kate 
to  look  her  best,  at  her  first  ball,"  he  said. 

"  I  promise,  in  my  turn,"  she  replied.  "  You  yourself  shall 
own  that  Kate's  dress  is  what  it  ought  to  be ;  and  I  know  how 
high  that  pledge  is,  knowing  your  uncle  partiality." 


The  following  morning,  while  Dawson  was  dressing  her  young 
lady  mistress,  she  said:  "I've  found  it  out  for  you,  Miss; 
I've  discovered  what  Miss  Ireton's  dress  is  to  be.  I  got  it  out 
of  Mistress  Martha,  who  was  as  proud  as  a  pea-hen,  because  she'i 
to  have  a  hand  in  it.  A  pretty  one  she  is,  truly,  to  make  up 
anything  fit  to  be  seen.  An  old-fashioned  body  like  that,  whose 
notions  of  dress  must  be  about  as  novel  and  tasty  as  the  Queen 
of  Sheba's  mantuatnaker's  'prentice." 

"  Is  Martha  to  make  up  Miss  Ireton's  dress? "asked  Alicia 
White. 

"  To  make  it  up,  and  to  get  it  up,  Miss.  She  showed  me  • 
whole  bundle— big  enough  to  fill  a  wash  tub— of  old  lace,  that 
the  'Squirt;  lia.l  givi-n  his  niece  ever  so  long  ago.  It  was  his  mo 


268  THE    IRON   COUSIN. 

ther's,  it  seems  ;  and  I  leave  you  to  judge.  Miss,  what  sort  of  fig 
ure  a  young  lady  dizened  out  in  a  parcel  of  dingy  old  yellow  lace 
will  cut.  Why,  she'll  look  like  my  gran'mother,  of  course ;  itV 
her  gran'ma's  lace,  and  a  pretty  granny  she'll  make  of  herself." 

"  But  if  Martha  is  to  get  it  up,  it  won't  be  yellow  or  dingv 
any  longer;  and  I  know  that  old  Mra.  Heathcote  was  celebrated 
for  the  fineness  and  beauty  of  her  laces,"  said  Miss  White.  "  I've 
heard  mamma  say  she  was  noted  for  wearing  the  most  delicate 
and  valuable  lace  in  the  county ;  no  duchess  could  own  richei 
Mechlin  and  Brussels,  If,  after  all,  her  dress  should  be  so  very 
handsome-  and  becoming!"  muttered  Miss  White,  musingly. 
"  She  seemed  to  make  sure  of  it." 

"  No  fear,  Miss,"  answered  the  ready  Dawson.  "  Think  of 
the  way  it'll  be  put  together.  No  taste,  no  style,  no  nothing. 
Take  my  word  for  it,  Miss,  it'll  look  like  a  morning  wrapper, — 
all  heavy  and  dead,  like.  Not  a  bit  airy  and  lightsome,  and  what 
a  ball  dress  should  be.  Think  of  your  own  sky-blue  crape,  Miss, 
with  the  bookies  of  snow-drops,  and  the  wreath  to  match ;  and 
then,  just  picter  to  yourself  the  difference.  Why,  you'll  look  as 
if  you'd  just  stepped  out  of  last  month's  Mode-book^the  very 
pink  of  elegance  and  fashion ;  while  Miss  Ireton,  poor  thing  ! 
will  look  for  all  the  world  like  a  ghost  in  a  white  sheet." 

"  I  should  be  fcorry  for  that,  Dawson,"  said  her  mistress. 
"  You  don't  suppose  I  wish  to  outshine  Miss  Ireton,  or  would 
take  pleasure  in  seeing  her  appear  to  disadvantage  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not,  Miss,"  said  the  acquiescent  tire-woman. 
"  Only,  whether  you  wish  it  or  no,  you  will  outshine  her.  and  all 
of  'era,  as  sure  as  my  name's  Eliza  Dawson.  See  if  you  don't, 
that's  all.  I  only  wish  I  could  be  there  to  see  it  too,  and  to  see 
how  a  certain  gentleman,  who  owns  a  park  nearer  here  than  Hyde 
Park,  will  show  he  thinks  so,  even  if  he  don't  say  so ;  though  it's 
my  opinion  he  will.  Full  dress  often  brings  on  a  declaration, 
that  every  day  dress  has  kept  fluttering  and  shilly-shallying  upon 
a  man's  lips  for  weeks  and  weeks.  Silks  and  muslins  may  win 
hearts ;  but  commend  me  to  blonde,  gauze,  and  crape,  for  bring- 
ing matters  to  a  crisis.  Walking-dresses  and  dinner-dresses  d* 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  269 

very  well  for  falling  in  love  with ;  but  a  ball-dress  for  popping 
the  question." 

"  Why,  you  silly  Dawson  !  what  is  your  head  running  upon  ? ' 
said  her  mistress. 

.  "  Never  mind,  Miss ;  what  I  know,  I  know.  All  I  say  is,  if 
a  gentleman  has  any  eyes  in  his  head,  or  heart  in  his  bosom,  much 
less  any  mind  to  a  particular  lady,  he  won't  be  able  to  resist  the 
sky-blue  and  snow-drops,  mark  my  words." 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

"  WHERE  have  you  been  this  age  past,  Mr.  Worthington  ?  "  said 
Alicia  White,  as  Feruior  made  his  appearance  at  Ilcathcotc  Hall 
one  afternoon,  within  a  day  or  two  of  that  on  which  the  ball  waa 
to  take  place.  "  We  have  missed  you  dreadfully  in  all  our  prep- 
arations." 

"  And  what  may  those  be  ?  Is  the  'Squire  going  to  have 
another  musical  party,  or  give  a  gala  in  the  grounds,  or  a  ball  ? 

"  You  burn,  as  the  children  say,"  laughed  Kate.  "  There  is 
a  ball  in  view,  but  not  at  Heathcote.  The  county  ball.  Haven't 
you  heard  of  it  ?  " 

A  public  ball!  you  are  not  going,  Kate  ?  " 

"  Indeed  I  am,  cousin  of  the  iron-grave  countenance.  Cecil 
brought  us  each  tickets  ;  and  we  are  going  in  a  pleasant  party — 
uncle  and  all." 

"  Unless  my  confounded  rheumatism  takes  it  into  ita  bead  to 
prevent  me,"  said  the  'Squire.  "  I've  had  a  touch  of  it  lately. 
I  felt  a  twinge  or  two  this  morning.  But  I  trust  it  won't  be  so 
as  to  tie  me  by  the  leg  on  the  night  of  the  ball,  for  I've 
si-t  my  lunrt  upon  seeing  my  little  girl  shine  out  in  all  her  finery, 
un<l  ;un  determined  to  go,  if  I  can  possibly  hobble." 

"  And  wo  count  upon  you,  Mr.  Worthington,  for  u  third 
gentleman.  The  more  cavaliers  iu  our  train,  the  greater  the 


270  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

honour  to  Kate  and  me.      We  shall  be  the  envy  of  the  room, 
said  Miss  White. 

"  And  I  have  resolved  to  dance  my  first  set,  at  my  first  ball . 
with  no  other  partner  than  the  doughty  Iron  Cousin  himself,' 
exclaimed  Kate. 

"  The  girls  are  determined  to  spoil  you,  Fermor,  my  boy,' 
said  the  'Squire.  "  They  are  actually  engaging  you  to  dance 
with  them  ;  and  they've  neither  of  them  asked  me  yet." 

"  Ay,  but  I  mean  to  monopolize  you  for  the  greater  part  of 
the  evening,  uncle ;  mind  that,"  said  Kate.  "  If  you  dance,  you 
dance  with  me,  remember." 

ulfl  dance,  you  saucy  baggage,  you  !  See  whether  I  won't 
show  you  what  a  partner  Harry  Heathcote  once  made.  Why, 
he  was  reckoned  the  best  hand  at  a  cotillon  in  all  the  county 
round." 

"  Or  the  best  foot,  uncle  ?  Truly,  it  is  a  dapper,  comely, 
neat-made  one  to  look  at,"  she  said,  stooping  down,  and  playfully 
caressing  his  trim  instep.  "  If  the  feet  footed  it  as  featly  as  they 
themselves  are  shapely,  no  wonder  their  dancing  exploits  were 
famed." 

"  And  will  you  come  over  and  join  us,  Fermor,  or  shall  you 
go  straight  from  Worthington  ?  "  asked  the  'Squire. 

"  I  ?  I  am  not  going,"  replied  Fermor,  quietly. 

'•  Not  going  !  "  repeated  Kate. 

"  Not  going,  Mr.  Worthington  !  "  echoed  Alicia,  dolefully  and 
deprecatingly. 

"  No,"  he  answered.  "  Many  things  will  prevent  me  ;  there 
arc  more  than  one  strong  objection  to  my  going." 

"  And  what  may  be  the  worshipful  Iron  Cousin's  c  strong  ob- 
jections ?  '  May  one  know  them  1  Sublime  in  reason,  irrefra- 
gably  right,  doubtless,"  said  Kate. 

"  In  the  first  place,  I  inherit  a  great  distaste,  an  aversion, 
towards  all  public  balls.  One,  whose  opinions  had  naturally 
much  weight  with  me,  not  unfrequently  declared  that  no  daugh- 
ter of  his  should  ever  set  foot  in  an  assembly  of  the  kind.  Ho 
averred  that  a  woman's  delicacy  was  exposed  to  undue  probation 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  271 

in  such  a  scene.  He  said  that  she  was  either  compelled  to  dance 
with  the  first  stranger  who  chose  to  get  presented  by  the  Master 
of  the  Ceremonies;  or  found  herself  under  the  necessity  of  seem- 
ing  haughty,  proud,  imperious,  by  refusal.  I  confess,  I  so  far 
share  my  father's  feelings  on  this  point,  that  it  would  give  me 
pain  to  see  any  woman  I  felt  an  interest  in  reduced  to  such  an 
alternative — subjected  to  a  similar  dilemma." 

The  thought  crossed  Kate's  mind,  whether  Mr.  Morton 
Wnrthington's  dislike  to  public  balls  might  not  have  arisen  out 
of  the  circumstance  of  her  own  mother's  having  met  the  man 
whom  she  preferred  to  him  at  one  of  them ;  but  she  only  laughed, 
as  she  said  : — "  Your  family  creed  probably  includes  that  dogma 
of  the  fastidious  gentleman  in  Sheridan's  comedy;  who  maintains 
that  there's  only  one  man  a  truly  modest  woman  ought  to  have 
for  a  partner,  while  the  rest  of  the  couples  should  be  made  up  of 
her  great-aunts  and  uncles,  grandfathers  and  grandmothers." 

"  But  the  way  to  ensure  having  only  one's  proper  partners, 
one's  chosen  partners,"  said  Alicia  White,  "  is  to  go  with  one's 
own  party ;  which  is  precisely  what  we  hope  to  do.  We  depend 
upon  you,  Mr.  Worthington,  on  this  very  account.  If  you  accom- 
pany us,  we  have  our  own  set  among  ourselves." 

"  Pardon  me,  you  cannot  depend  upon  me  ;  since  the  'Squire 
has  announced  his  intention  of  dancing,"  he  replied.  "  You 
would  not  pay  'Squire  Heathcote  so  bad  a  compliment,  as 
to  allow  him  to  suppose  that  he  is  not  a  partner  you  would 
favour  ?  " 

"  I  shall  be  only  too  much  honoured,  if  the  dear  'Squire  will 
be  mine,"  said  Alicia  White  ;  "  still  I '' 

"  Still  she  would  be  very  well  contented  to  have  a  partner 
extra,  in  case  the  elderly  one  should  find  he  is  not  quite  so  un- 
tiring a  dancer  as  of  yore,"  said  the  'Squire.  "  Come,  Fermor, 
my  good  fellow;  don't  play  the  austere  old  gentleman,  while  I'm 
about  tu  play  the  fool  and  the  juvenile.  If  it  be  only  to  keep 
one  in  countenance,  consent  to  forego  your  grave  notions  of  right 
and  wronir,  t'->r  "i"---  i"  a  way." 

••  Do  y.m  think   I  should  require  pressing  and  persuasion, 


£72  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

if  I  could  comply,  my  dear  'Squire?"  said  Fermor  Worth 
ington.  "  Ask  yourself,  if  my  sable  habit  be  a  fit  costume  for  a 
nail-room." 

"  Many  people  in  mourning  go  to  balls,  and  dance  too,"  said 
Alicia  White. 

"  I  do  not  blame  them  ;  they  have  a  perfect  right  to  do  so, 
if  no  sentiment  or  feeling  prompt  them  to  stay  away.  But  for 
my  part,  a  person  in  deep  mourning  in  a  ball-room,  always  strikes 
me  as  an  anomaly — a  mockery — a  heartless  inconsistency — a 
shock  to  that  respect  and  sacredness  belonging  to  the  memento 
of  a  sorrow  common  to  us  all.  Besides,  not  to  dwell  too  seriously 
upon  what  are,  after  all,  only  my  own  peculiar  whims  of  feeling 
upon  the  subject,  there  is  another  impediment  to  my  forming  one 
of  your  party  at  this  ball ;  it  takes  place  the  day  after  to-morrow, 
which  is  Thursday." 

"  And  do  the  Iron  Cousin's  freaks  of  superstition  set  a  bar 
upon  poor  Thursday,  in  the  same  way  that  popular  superstition 
repudiates  Friday  ?  "  asked  Kate. 

"  No,"  he  replied.  "  I  thought  you  knew,  Kate,  that  my 
Thursdays  are  always  engaged." 

"  Oh,  you  mean  that,  in  your  usual  self-addiction  to  disagree- 
ables, you  have  made  a  point  of  dedicating  each  Thursday  to  the 
hilarity  of  Ditchley  Manor ;  to  the  lively  task  of  playing  back- 
gammon through  a  whole  evening  with  Sir  Dullarton — the 
wearisomest  of  mortal  men — a  very  slough  and  bog  of  tedious 
humanity." 

"  Sir  Dullarton  proved  himself  a  kind  and  zealous  friend  of 
my  father's,  in  a  strait,  when  he  had  not  a  soul  else  to  aid  him ; 
he  once,  by  a  curious  chance,  saved  his  life  in  a  street-brawl  at 
Palermo.  My  father  never  forgot  the  debt — nor  will  his  son. 
He  forgave  him  his  constitutional  slowness  and  dullness,  for  the 
sake  of  his  proved  active  goodness.  My  father  found  that,  by 
granting  him  his  own  society,  he  could  best  gratify  his  friend, 
and  return  the  obligation  he  owed  him  ;  and  when  himself  waa 
taken  away,  he  left  me  to  supply  his  place  with  the  poor  re- 
sourceless  knight.  I  would  not  fail  in  this  for  any  consideration. 
I  look  upon  him  in  the  light  of  a  direct  bequest." 


THI:  IRON  COUSIN.  272 

:i  remarkably  unpleasant  legacy  ho  is!"  said  Kate. 
Like  many  :i  legacy — brings  more  trouble  and  fuss  than  heV 
worth  ;  more  of  a  tie  and  a  burden,  than  benefit  or  advan- 
tage." 

"  That  is  less  generously  said,  than  Kate's  usual  words,"  ob- 
served Fcnnor.  "  She  docs  not  ordinarily  show  gain  to  be  her 
sole  consideration,  in  the  view  she  takes  of  a  circumstance.  II 
she  consult  her  own  natural  feeling,  she  will  comprehend  that  nei- 
ther benefit  nor  advantage — to  myself,  are  my  object  in  appropri- 
ating Thursdays  to  Sir  Dullarton  and  Ditchley  Manor." 

"  But,  Mr.  Worthington,  you  have  not,  after  all,  told  us  what 
was  the  pursuit  which  detained  you  so  long  away  from  us  at 
Ileathcote,  where  you  have  been  greatly  missed,"  said  the  smooth 
voice  of  Alic'ia.  White,  gliding  in  upon  the  somewhat  awkward 
pause  that  followed  Fermor's  last  speech.  "  You  must  show  us 
that  it  was  something  very  amusing,  or  very  engrossing,  which  de- 
prived us  of  the  pleasure  of  your  company,  if  you  would  have  us 
forgive  you." 

"  Nothing  more  amusing  than  trying  to  gain  a  voice  in  a  hum 
(Irani  Committee,  and  obtain  a  seat  among  a  dry  board  of  Direc- 
tors," smiled  Fermor. 

"  Am  I  not  right  in  saying  that  the  Iron  Cousin  has  a  special 
passion  for  disagreeables  ?  "  laughed  Kate.  "  Who  but  himsflt' 
would  have  found  out  such  a  mode  of  spending  his  time,  by  way 
of  aiuusi-ment ;  and  setting  his  heart  upon  such  things,  by  way 
of  delights  ?  To  be  sure,  there  is  the  zest  of  trying  to  conquer 
difficulties,  master  impracticabilities,  and  obtain  impossibility's, 
— a  charm  in  itself  to  an  iron  disposition.  And  of  course  you 
have  carried  your  point?" 

"  On  the  contrary,  have  been  utterly  foiled,"  replied  he. 

••  i:\viva!"  she  exclaimed.  "  Tell  us  the  particulars.  This 
is  indeed  something  worth  hearing !  The  Iron  Cousin  defeated  ! 
Enchanting  1  " 

''Kate,  Kat.-  !  "  said  Miss  White,  in  a  soft,  deprecating  tone  ; 
then  turning  to  Fermor,  she  added  :  "  Yes,  Mr.  Wnrthington, 
HI.V  do  Irll  us  all  about  it,  \vc  dull  nil  sympathize  with  joui 
11" 


274  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

mortification,  though  this  naughty,  cruel  creature  pretends  to  re 
joice." 

"  No  great  mortification;  neither  my  pride,  nor  my  vanity 
nor  my  dignity,  were  interested  in  the  matter,"  said  Fermor 
"  I  was  merely  anxious  to  secure  this  Directorship,  that  I  might 
endeavour  to  remove  a  person  from  an  office  she  is  unfit  to  fill. 
You  remember  '  Lemon-face,'  Kate  ?  " 

"  Quite  well,"  she  answered.  "  Was  it  the  School-Committee 
you  were  trying  to  gain  a  place  in  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  the  vacancy  occurred  among  the  Directors,  and  I  ap- 
plied to  become  one.  But  this  morning  the  election  was  decided 
against  me  ;  and  I  came  here  to  console  myself  for  my  disappoint- 
ment." 

"  And  instead  of  consolation,  met  with  mockery  and  wicked 
ridicule.  Fie,  Kate  !  I'm  shocked  at  your  wildness  of  raillery, 
which  spares  nobody  ;  you  witty,  wilful  thing,  you  ! "  said  Alicia 
White,  sweetly. 

"  Kate  deals  sharp  words  as  other  ladies  give  taps  of  the  fan," 
laughed  Cecil.  "  She  hits  you  a  blow  with  her  tongue,  as  they 
bestow  raps  o'  the  knuckles.  Some  women  wound  with  unkind 
looks,  some  with  sly,  back-biting  hints,  and  malicious  whispered 
inuendoes;  but  Kate  gives  honest,  overt,  broad-sword  cuts,  in 
broad  daylight.  How  runs  the  passage  ? 

'She  gives  the  bastinado  with  her  tongue, 
Our  ears  are  cudgel'd ;  not  a  word  of  hers, 
But  buffets  better  than  a  fist  of  might ; 
We  are  bethump'd  with  words ' 

perhaps,  yet  we  have  an  open,  handsome  enemy,  who  makes  no  pre- 
tence of  soft  hitting." 

"  Thanks,  good  ally,"  said  Kate.  "  You  are  a  staunch  cham- 
pion and  bold  defender.  As  for  my  broad-sword  exercise  my 
rapier  play,  it  moves  the  Iron  Cousin  no  jot : — 

'  On  him,  when  pertness  is  satiric, 
He  takes  ?t  for  a  panegyric.' " 


THE   IRON    COUSIN  275 

"  It  would  require  Conceit  itself  to  discern  panegyric  in  Kate's 
sarcasm,"  replied  Fermor.  "  Dull  iron,  conscious  of  no  other 
claim  to  distinction  than  solidity  and  firmness — a  certain  sober 
virtue  and  value  of  its  own,  in  usefulness  and  reliability,  cannot 
hope  to  find  anything  very  flattering  to  its  self-love,  beneath  the 
gay  taunts  that  are  perpetually  flung  at  its  grim  heaviness." 

"  You  show  how  perfectly  equal  it  is  to  rebuff  the  light  attacks 
of  steel,"  she  answered. 

"  Highly-polished  and  well-tempered  as  that  steel  is,"  he  re- 
turned, "were  it  less  bright,  or  less  fine  of  temper,  it  would  be 
hardly  bearable." 

"  If  it  were  not  true  steel — good  in  temper,  it  would  snap, 
cousin  mine ;  and  you  could  not  endure  snappishness  ?  Tell  me, 
whenever  my  speech  shall  degenerate  into  anything  so  contempti- 
ble," she  said.  "  And  now,  Alicia,  give  us  one  of  your  most  de- 
licious adagios,  to  take  the  taste  of  all  this  out  of  our  mouths." 


The  day  of  the  ball  arrived.  But  with  it  came  a  sharpened 
attack  of  the  'Squire's  enemy,  rheumatism ;  and  when  he  made 
his  appearance  in  the  breakfast-room,  supported  by  his  old  servant, 
Robert,  he  was  compelled  to  confess  that  he  must  give  up  all  hope 
of  accompanying  them  that  evening. 

Miss  White  could  not  conceal  her  chagrin;  Cecil  looked  dis- 
concerted ;  while  Kate  hastened  to  arrange  her  uncle's  arm-chair 
comfortably  for  him,  and  place  a  soft  hassock  beneath  his  feet. 

'  .My  dear  girls  you  shall  not  be  disappointed;  I  have  thought 
of  an  excellent  plan  for  your  proper  escort.  Kate,  my  dear,  get 
pen  and  ink,  and  write  a  note  for  me  to  Mrt.  Huntley.  I  mean 
her  to  call  here  in  her  carriage  for  you  and  Alicia,  and  Cecil. 
There  will  be  plenty  of  room,  for  I  know  Will  ITuntley  intend? 
going  over  in  the  phaeton,  early ;  and  as  the  Hall  lies  in  her  way, 
I  shall  not  put  his  wife  to  any  inconvenience  in  requesting  In  r  in 
f.'t.-li  you.  All  for  the  best,  you  see,  girls  1  You'll  h:r 
plory  of  making  your  entry,  under  the  wing  of  the  principal  Lady- 
Patroness." 


276  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

The  note  was  written  and  despatched ;  and  then  Alicia  White 
called  upon  Kate  to  take  it  in  turn  to  entertain  the  'Squire  witi» 
as  much  music  as  he  pleased,  in  requital  for  his  kind  arrangement. 
The  morning  passed  thus,  contentedly  and  pleasantly ;  and  imme- 
diately after  the  earlier  dinner,  which  the  'Squire  had  ordered 
purposely  to  give  them  plenty  of  time  to  beautify,  as  he  said,  he 
despatched  them  both  to  their  dressing-rooms,  bidding  them  come 
and  let  him  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  them  in  their  full  blaze  of 
adornment,  before  Mrs.  Huntley's  carriage  should  arrive.^ 

"  And  as  the  process  of  Adonizing  and  Narcissusizing  does  not 
require  so  much  time  as  that  of  Venusizing  and  Hebeizing,"  said 
Cecil,  "  your  uncle  and  I  will  have  a  game  of  chess  together,  Kate, 
while  you  ladies  take  an  hour  or  two's  start  of  me." 

"Here's  a  secure  Hippomenes  for  you!"  she  cried.  "He 
yields  his  first  vantage-step  to  his  pair  of  Atalantas,  secure  in  his 
own  golden  apples  of  conquering  array,  when  once  he  shall  have 
donned  it." 

"Remember,  Hippomenes  won  the  race!"  said  Cecil,  looking 
after  Kate,  as  she  left  the  room  ;  and  when  the  door  closed  upon 
the  beautiful  vanishing  form,  he  muttered :  "  And  succeeded  in 
winning  Atalanta  from  her  vow  never  to  love,  or  listen  to  lover.' 

"  Cecil,  you  are  playing  carelessly,"  said  the  'Squire ;  "  your 
thoughts  are  not  upon  the  game;  they  are  upon  pumps  and  silk 
stockings,  the  sit  of  your  coat,  or  the  fit  of  your  waistcoat.  Why 
is  not  Kate  here  to  help  me  to  tease  you  about  your  anxiety  to  look 
killing  to-night  ?  " 

"  Pardon  me ;  I'm  all  attention.  I  see,  your  queen's  in  dan- 
ger. You  don't  perceive  how  my  bold  knight  is  advancing  towards 
her." 

"  Ay,  but  here's  a  trusty  'squire,  in  the  shape  of  a  sturdy  lit- 
tle pawn,  at  hand  to  rescue  her,  and  keep  her  safe.  I  can't  part 
with  my  queen.  I  lose  all  in  losing  her." 

There  was  something  in  his  old  friend's  words  that  threw  Ce- 
cil into  another  fit  of  musing.  His  absence  of  mind  became  at 
length  so  evident,  that  the  'Squire,  sweeping  his  hand  over  the 
board,  and  bursting  into  a  laugh,  said :  "  There  !  Away  with  you 


nn:  IRON  COUSIN.  277 

I  see  you're  dying  to  be  off  to  your  room  and  get  ready.  Very 
natural !  It  isn't  so  long  ago,  but  I  can  remember  bow  a  young 
fellow  feels  within  an  bour  or  two  of  a  pleasant  dance.  I  used  to 
be  all  impatience  myself,  and  tbougbt  dressing  brought  the  time 
nearer.  Boyish  enough,  perhaps ;  but  some  of  our  boy  feelings 
are  not  the  least  pleasant  ones  to  look  back  upon.  Off  with  you, 
Ce.c-il !  I'll  put  by  the  chess-men." 

The  'Squire,  as  he  dropped  the  pieces  into  their  box,  said, 
smilingly,  to  himself:  "Odd  enough  1  "  And  then  he  turned 
round,  and  sat  looking  into  the  fire,  dreaming  of  a  time  when  he 
dressed  to  go  to  just  such  a  ball,  at  the  same  assembly-room,  with 
his  head  and  heart  full  of  meeting  this  young  fellow's  mother, 
then  a  blooming  girl,  and  himself  no  older  than  her  son  was  now. 

Ho  w;is  still  lost  in  quiet  reverie,  when  the  door  opened,  and  a 
white  vision  stole  in.  It  came  forward,  on  noiseless  foot,  radiant 
and  beaming,  and  stood  before  him,  smiling  in  his  face,  while  in- 
nocent pleasure  and  glad  consciousness  sparkled  from  the  eyes, 
and  played  round  the  lips. 

"  .My  Kate  !  My  dear,  beautiful  girl !  "  exclaimed  the  'Squire, 
in  a  sort  of  irrepressible  transport. 

She  did,  indeed,  look  rery  beautiful.  Her  own  artistic  eye 
and  native  taste  had  devised  a  robe,  more  graceful  than  any  mere 
fashionable  dross-maker's  conventionality  would  have  produced ; 
and  yet  it  sufficiently  adhered  to  the  mode  then  worn  to  prescrre 
it  from  affectation  of  originality  or  singularity.  The  richness  and 
delicacy  of  the  material  was  exhibited  to  the  best  advantage ;  the 
soft  lace  hung  cloudily  and  transparently  around  her,  assorting 
admirably  with  the  brilliancy  and  bloom  of  her  complexion,  and 
I  h.-  graceful  lightness  of  her  figure.  Amongst  her  luxuriant  hair 
were  arranged  some  blossoms  of  a  choice  heath,  which  had  lately 
ent  by  Fermor  from  the  Worthington  conservatory  to  the 
'Squire ;  the  pure,  waxen  flowers,  blending  perfectly  with  the  SD  >wy 
Vxture  of  her  dress. 

At  her  unele.'s  wonls  Kate  threw  herself  into  his  arms  and 
gave  him  a  hearty,  laughing  hug;  and  then  knelt  upon  Mii 
tu.-hiun  at  his  tout,  that  lie  might  look  at  her  at  his  case. 


278  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  Do  you  know  that  you  are  paying  my  good  looks  a  poor 
compliment,  in  allowing  that  full-dress  makes  me  beautiful  ?  "  she 
said.  "  You  never  called  me  so  in  my  morning-frocks,  or  my 
riding-habit,  and,  therefore,  I  must  needs  believe  that  it  is  only 
the  gown  which  turns  me  into  a  beauty." 

"  If  I  haven't  spoken  my  thought  before,  it  is  not  because  it 
wasn't  in  my  mind,"  said  the  'Squire.  "  I  have  often  called  you 
my  own  beautiful  Kate  to  myself;  but  the  sight  of  you  in  that 
pretty  dancing-dress,  showing  your  white  throat  and  white  arms 
— of  a  still  more  fair  white  than  your  dress,  for  they  have  life, 
and  health,  and  glow  in  them — forced  the  word  from  my  lips. 
I  know  it's  thought  very  foolish  and  very  wrong  to  praise  young 
girls  to  their  face,  or  to  let  them  know  they're  beauties ;  but 
still  I  have  no  fear,  somehow,  of  making  you  vain,  my  Kate." 

"  In  short,  in  your  eyes,  I'm  perfect,  morally  and  bodily,  dear 
uncle  !  I  know  that ;  but  it  isn't  unpleasant  to  hear  it  said  out. 
too — by  you}'1 

"  Ay,  but  you'll  have  to  bear  its  being  said  by  others,  also," 
said  the  'Squire,  with  a  little  sigh.  "  It  isn't  to  be  supposed  but 
what  all  those  young  fellows  at  the  ball  to-night  will  see  that 
which  is  plain  enough  to  an  old  fellow  like  me — that  you  really 
are  very  handsome,  my  Kate.  I  wish  I  were  going  with  you,  to 
see  how  you'll  be  admired ;  and  yet  I  don't  know  that  I  should 
altogether  like  to  see  it,  either." 

He  sighed  again,  as  he  stroked  back  her  hair  from  her  fair 
young  brow,  and  leaned  forward,  and  kissed  it  softly  and  fondly. 
Then  he  took  her  in  his  arms,  and  folded  her  to  his  breast,  as  he 
said  :  "  I  love  you  toe  truly,  too  deeply,  Kate,  to  care  whether 
you  are  admired  or  no.  This  is  very  selfish,  I  know,  but  I  can't 
help  it." 

"  It  is  exactly  my  own  feeling,  uncle ;  so  that  I  have  your 
love,  what  do  I  want  with  admiration  ?" 

"  Nevertheless,  you  will  have  it — you  can't  help  that,"  said 
the  'Squire.  "  No  one  will  look  upon  you  to-night  but  will  ac- 
knowledge  But  I  am  forgetting,  and  spoiling  all  Matty's 

sareful  handiwork,  and  ruffling  your  smooth,  glossy  curls,  and 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  279 

rumpling  your  pretty  dress,"  he  added,  drawing  back  in  some 
dismay,  at  perceiving  that  his  caresses  were  certainly  deranging 
the  order  of  her  attire. 

"  No  matter ;  ruffle  and  rumple  as  you  will,  uncle  mine !  1 
dressed  for  you.  It  is  all  yours  to  admire  and  do  as  you  please 
with.  Have  I  not  kept  my  promise  ?  Is  it  not  a  ball-dress  for 
a  queen — nay,  even  for  your  niece,  your  Kate  ?  I  had  a  pride 
in  its  consisting  of  that  exquisite  lace  you  gave  me  of  grand- 
mamma's, and  in  its  being  all  your  own  girl's  planning,  and 
Matty's  making,  under  my  careful  superintendence.  Have  we 
not  been  skilful  milliners?" 

"  I'm  no  great  judge  of  millinery,  my  dear ;  but  to  me  it 
seems  perfect.  However,  we'll  ask  Cecil  and  Alicia.  She  really 
is  a  judge  of  these  things." 

"  I'm  quite  contented  with  your  judgment,  uncle ;  if  you  are 
Katisficd,  I  am — completely." 

"  But  now  get  up,  my  dear,  and  put  yourself  to  rights  in  the 
glass  a  little.  I  must  have  you  quite  neat  and  ready  against 
Mrs.  Huntley  comes  for  you." 

"  Plenty  of  time,  uncle  !  Don't  drive  me  away ;  I'm  very 
happy  here." 

"  Drive  you  away,  my  Kate  !  I  only  wish  I  could  keep  you 
by  me  till  I  sent  you  from  me.  You'd  stand  a'  chance  of  having 
no  ball — no  dancing  to-night,  I  fear." 

Kate  clapped  her  hands.  "  The  very  thing  I  wanted  you  to 
say,  uncle  !  I  mean  to  stay  with  you ;  and  I  know  you'll  neither 
tend  me  from  you,  nor  drive  me  away,  when  I  tell  you  I  wish  to 
remain." 

"  Remain  at  home !  Give  up  the  ball — your  first  ball  !  No, 
my  Kate ;  that  shall  not  be.  You  must  not  make  me  utterly 
selfish.  I  know  you  wish  to  stay  at  home  on  my  account :  that 
is  treating  me  like  a  spoiled  child — a  baby — one  who  cannot  bear 
to  see  himself  deprived  of  a  pleasure." 

"  On  the  contrary,  uncle,  I  ask  you  "to  grant  me  a  pleasure, 
»nd  you  have  never  refused  me  one  yet.  It  is  you  who  have 
spoiled  me  you  know  ;  ami  you  are  not  going  to  begin  now  to  bt 


280  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

harsh,  and  unkind,  and  severe,  and  refuse  me  my  way,  and  un 
r»poil  me,  are  you  ?  ;' 

"  You  coaxing  little  villain  !  this  is  how  you  always  get  th< 
better  of  me  !  "  said  the  'Squire,  pinching  her  cheek,  as  she  leaned 
upon  his  lap,  and  looked  into  his  face. 

"  What  is  Kate,  as  usual,  beguiling  you  out  of  'Squire  ?  "  said 
Cecil,  as  he  entered.  "  She  succeeds  in  overcoming  all  your 
sternest  decrees,  subduing  all  your  strictest  resolves,  knocking 
down  all  your  most  fixed  measures.  How  is  it  that,  sovereign 
man  as  you  are,  you  do  not  better  know  how  to  quell  such  a  rebel 
traitress  as  that  ?  She  lies  at  your  foot ;  you  have  nothing  to  do  but 
spurn  her  from  you — nothing  sooner  done  ;  nothing  more  easy. 
Try." 

"  You  would't  say  it's  so  easy,  were  you  in  my  place,  Cecil. 
It's  just  the  very  thing  I  can't  do.  I  feel  I  ought  to  insist,  and 
yet  I  have  no  more  heart  to  do  it  than — than — than  you  would 
have.  Once  that  hussy  asks  me  to  grant  her  anything,  and  it's 
all  over  with  my  power  to  refuse." 

"  Be  a  man,  'Squire  !  Exercise  your  masculine  prerogative ; 
say  '  No,'  boldly,  to  that  confident,  smiling,  upturned  face,  look- 
ing so  assured  in  its  insolent  sense  of  power ;  trample  on  that 
pleading,  kneeling  grace,  which  assumes  a  lowly  attitude  only 
the  better  to  manifest  its  haughty  consciousness  of  triumph  !  Call 
up  all  your  manliness  !  She  lies  prone  before  you,  temptingly 
ready  ;  strike,  and  vanquish  !  What  mercy  does  an  arch-insur- 
gent like  that  deserve  ?  Does  she  not  look  smilingly,  mischiev- 
ously secure?  The  sight  is  enough  to  drive  a  man  out  of  his 
senses  with — with — impatience.  No  wonder  you  are  out  of 
patience,  'Squire,  at  her  defiant  witchery  —  her  irresistible 
wiles." 

"  I  know  I  ought  to  resist  her,-  when  she  wants  to  coax  me 
into  letting  her  remain  with  me,"  said  the  'Squire  ;  "  but,  some- 
how, I  always  give  way,  however  I  may  mean  to  stick  to  mj 
point,  with  Kate." 

"  Of  course  you  do,  like  a  good,  dutiful  uncle.  You  consent 
and  I  stay  at  home  this  evening." 


THB    IRON    COUSIN.  28  i 

"  Stay  at  borne  !  "  exclaimed  Cecil,  a  blank  look  suddenly 
faking  place  of  his  former  vivacity  and  excitements 

"  Yes,"  said  Kate,  quietly. 

"  Then  so  will  I,"  said  Cecil,  hastily. 

"  That  you  will  not,  Cecil,"  said  Kate.  "  You  would  not  be 
so  rude  to  Miss  White." 

"  Hang  Miss  White  !  I  beg  her  pardon  ;  but  I  do  not  care 
for  dancing  with  her,  and  I  do  care  for  dancing  with  you,  Kate. 
I  had  set  my  heart  upon — I  had  made  up  my  mind  to " 

"  And  now  you  must  make  up  your  mind  to  oblige  me,  Cecil," 
she  said.  "  I  am  sure  you  will  not  refuse,  when  I  tell  you  it 
will  really  oblige  me  if  you  go,  and  seriously  disoblige  me  if  you 

He  bit  his  lip ;  turned  away,  and  beat  his  fingers  vexedly 
upon  the  table. 

"  You  now  see  what  I  said  is  true,  that  it's  not  so  eaay  to 
deny  this  little  baggage  anything,  when  she  chooses  to  ask," 
laughed  the  'Squire.  "  There's  no  resisting  her.  I've  long  felt 
it  ;  and  you're  beginning  to  find  it  out,  too." 

"  I  am,  indeed,"  muttered  Cecil. 

Miss  White  now  made  her  appearance,  looking  precisely  as 
her  maid  had  predicted  she  would — just  as  if  she  had  stepped  out 
of  a  fashion-bi>i)k,  point-device  from  top  to  toe.  When  the  blue 
crape  and  snowdrops  had  received  their  due  meed  of  admiration, 
Alk-ia  exclaimed  :  "  But,  my  goodness  !  Kate,  dear,  how  are  you 
muddling  your  dress  upon  that  hearth  rug.  Those  beautiful 
flounces !  What  magnificent  wide  lace  1  Like  a  cobweb,  BO 
delicately  fine.  But  you  are  positively  ruining  them,  couching 
down  there.  They'll  be  so  crushed — not  fit  to  be  seen  when  you 
reach  the  ball-room." 

"  Then,  I'd  better  not  go  there  at  all ;  and  that's  exactly 
what  I  mean  to  do,"  said  Kate. 

"  Not  go  1  give  up  the  ball ! "  exclaimed  Miss  White.  "  Bat 
why  did  you  dress,  then  ?  " 

"  For  a  whim  of  my  own,"  laughed  Kate. 

"  And  you  stay  at  homo  for  a  whim,  too  ?     Kcally  you  are  • 


282  TIIE    IRON    COUSOT. 

most  whimsical  creature,  altogether,  Kate,  dear.  I  can't  half 
understand  you." 

"  Most  likely  not,"  she  said  ;  "  and  yet  there's  nothing  very 
abstruse  about  me;  I'm  as  plain  to  be  read  as  A,  B,  C." 

"  The  most  unlearned  of  scholars  could  make  out  that  fair 
text ;  its  lines  are  legible  enough,  though  only  a  dunce  would 
call  them  plain,"  said  Cecil. 

"  Don't  waste  your  smart  speeches  before  your  time,  Cecil/' 
laughed  Kate.  "  Keep  compliments  for  the  ball-room ;  your 
gallantry  will  have  need  of  as  many  of  them  as  you  can  muster. 
They'll  be  quite  in  place  there,  and  expected  from  you  ;  but  here, 
they're  thrown  away." 

"  Hark  !  there's  the  carriage  !  "  cried  Miss  White.  "  Think 
better  of  it,  Kate,  and  go  with  us."  And  she  ran  to  the  win- 
dow. 

"  Do,  Kate,"  said  Cecil,  leaning  down  to  her,  and  speaking 
the  words  low  and  earnestly. 

"  Am  I  to  oblige  you,  or  you  me  ?  "  she  said,  playfully. 

"  I  prefer  your  wishes  even  to  my  own,"  he  said,  in  a  tone, 
the  meaning  inflection  of  which  was  lost  upon  her. 

"  Be  it  as  you  will,  Kate." 

"  I  knew  you  would  not  deny  me,  Cecil.  You  have  always 
been  obliging  and  kind,  ever  since  we  have  known  each  other," 
and  she  laid  her  hand  upon  his,  in  a  simple,  affectionate  manner, 
— as  a  child, — a  sister. — might  have  done,  to  a  good-natured  bro- 
ther who  humoured  her  girlish  wishes.  "  And  now  go  and  per- 
form your  duty  of  cavalier  to  Miss  White  ;  put  on  her  shawl  for 
her,  and  lead  her  down  to  the  carriage." 

Cecil  started  from  his  chair,  and  again  ground  something 
between  his  teeth,  in  which  Miss  White's  name  was  audible,  with 
a  word  of  one  syllable  before  it — inarticulate,  but  which  did  not 
sound  as  if  it  invoked  precisely  a  blessing  upon  her  head. 


rm:  IRON  COUSIN.  283 


CHAPTER   XXXI. 

*  AND  now,  uncle,  tell  mo  a  story,  while  I  wind  this  skein  of 
sewing-silk  to  mend  my  riding-gloves  with.  I  spied  a  very  dis 
reputable  hole  or  two  in  them  when  I  was  last  out  with  you," 
§aid  Kate. 

"  How  am  I  to  tell  you  a  story,  who  have  read  so  few  ?  "  said 
the  'Squire. 

"  The  very  reason,  uncle.  Your  best  story-tellers  are  those 
who  look  upon  life,  instead  of  into  books.  There's  Matty,  who 
I  fancy  has  never  looked  into  more  than  one  book  in  the  whole 
course  of  her  existence  ;  she's  a  capital  teller  of  a  long  tale..  I 
often  get  her  to  amuse  me  with  some  of  hers." 

"  But  I've  little  observation,  and  no  invention,"  said  the 
'Squire.  "  I  may  have  seen  life,  but  I  can  hardly  be  said  to 
have  made  much  out  of  it,  or  drawn  much  from  it.  I'm  nothing 
of  a  critic  or  a  judge,  I  take  things  pretty  much  as  they  come  to 
me,  and  I've  always  found  them  turn  out  very  pleasantly ;  per- 
haps more  so  than  if  I'd  spied  and  spied  into  their  causes,  their 
reasons,  or  their  natures,  and  asked  myself  a  dozen  troublesome 
questions  as  to  why  I  liked  them,  and  whether  I  liked  them  at 
all.  I've  had  a  very  quiet  peaceful  life,  thank  God  !  and  a  very 
happy  one,  thanks  to  the  little  girl  He  has  given  me.  It's  a 
curious  point  of  time  in  a  man's  life,  by-tbe-bye,  when  ho  first 
Cuds  himself  talking  of  it  in  the  past  tense  aa  a  thing  passed 
tltnnioh,  spent,  gone;  instead  of  the  eager,  forward  look  bo  gives 
to  it,  so  long  as  he  can  speak  of  it  as  something  to  come,  to  be 
turned  to  profit,  to  be  improved,  and  worthily  enjoyed.  Yet 
thoiiirh  a  touch  of  sadness  accompanies  this  first  viewing  life  in 
r.-trospect,  it  is  not  without  its  satisfaction,  if  self-reproach  bo 
not  there.  That  embitters  all,  indeed !  No  source  of  jrratitmla 
d.-q.-T  than  to  have  Wn  sj.arrd  that  fearful  pang.  All  may  b« 
nutter  borne,  and  better  remedial.'' 


THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  Few  men  can  have  more  cause  for  that  gratitude  than  you, 
my  uncle,"  said  Kate. 

"  I  may  not  have  been  among  the  most  erring,"  said  the 
"Squire ;  "  but  I  have  had  few  temptations,  few  difficulties,  few 
trials  ;  therefore  what  might  be  virtue  in  one  sorely  tried  and 
sorely  tempted,  is  in  me  bare  negative  guiltlessness.  Still,  to 
have  been  suffered  to  be  guiltless,  while  so  many  helpless  crea- 
tures have  been  led  into  sin  by  misfortunes  and  misery,  by  evil 
teaching,  and  by  want  of  teaching,  by  example,  and  by  tempera- 
ment, is  a  never-ceasing  occasion  for  fervent,  humble,  happy 
thanks,  offered  within  my  own  heart  to  Him  who  appointed  my 
lot,  and  made  me  what  I  am."  • 

Kate  bent  her  face  upon  the  hand  resting  on  her  uncle's 
knee,  and  reverently  kissed  its  veined  and  wrinkled  surface. 

"  This  is  but  grave  talk  for  my  Kate  on  what  should  have 
been  her  first  gay  ball-night,"  said  the  'Squire,  cheerfully,  though 
his  tone  had  been  placidly  cheerful  all  along. 

"  And  do  you  think  I  am  not  greatly  happier  thus  ?  "  she 
said.  "  Gaiety  is  pleasant,  but  happiness  is  better  still." 

At  this  moment  the  room-door  opened,  and  Fcrmor  Wor- 
thiugton  entered. 

"  Fermor !  "  exclaimed  the  'Squire. 

"  You  !  "  exclaimed  Kate. 

"  Nay,  '  you,  Kate  !  you  here  !  "  he  returned,  in  the  same 
voice  of  surprise.  "  I  thought  this  was  the  night  of  the  county 
ball." 

"  And  so  it  is ;  yet  I  am  here,  you  see,"  she  replied. 

"  Though  I  see,  I  can  scarcely  believe,"  he  said,  standing 
close  beside  her,  as  she  "knelt  there,  still  couched  upon  the  rug, 
at  her  uncle's  feet.  "  That  dress,  too  !  How  comes  it  that  you 
are  not  already  gone  ?  " 

"  Don't  you  see  I'm  seized  with  a  notable  fit,"  she  said,  hold 
ing  up  the  card  upon  which  she  was  winding  the  silk.  "  Here, 
hold  the  skein,  and  make  yourself  useful,  too.  Is  not  this  much 
wiser,  and  safer,  and  gooder,  now,  than  going  to  an  idle,  silly, 
wicked  ball,  losing  one's  time,  and  risking  one's what  is  it  7 


THE    IRON    COUSIN. 


»h,  I  remember — one's  'delicacy.'  Now,  why  do  you  fttnile? 
You  should  look  grave,  and  pretty- behaved,  and  proper,  as  I  do, 
and  as  you  generally  do." 

"  Why,  this  is  the  poor  ball-ticket,  degraded  into  a  silk- 
winder  !  "  he  said. 

"  Yes,  it  was  discarded,  no  longer  a  card  available  for  its 
original  naughty,  foolish  purpose  ;  so  I  made  it  serve  my  whim 
for  turning  everything  to  useful  profit,  and  wisdom,  and  sobriety, 
this  evening." 

"  And  this  is  a  very  sober  dress  you  have  chosen  to  play  so- 
brictv  and  usefulness  in.  It  is  fitted  rather  to  rout  sober 
thoughts,  and  to  substitute  I  know  not  what  idle  ones.  Is  it 
quite  wise  to  wear  it  ?  " 

"  Do  you  wish  me  to  change  it — to  put  on  a  soberer  one  ?  * 
she  a.«ked. 

He  was  not  attending  to  what  she  said. 

"  Is  it  quite  in  your  professed  spirit  of  wisdom  and  propriety, 
to  wear  such  a  dress  to  sit  at  home  and  work  in,  to  sit  upon  the 
floor  in,  to  play  the  Cinderella  in  ?  Will  not  the  white  drew 
be  sullied,  or  the  purer  and  fairer  white  be  scorched  ? "  he 
added. 

"  Docs  the  fire  scorch  your  neck,  your  arms,  my  Kato  ?  "  said 
tin-  'Squire. 

"  If  you  think  they  run  any  risk,  uncle,  I'll  send  for  a  shawl,1' 
sin-  sniil. 

"  I  think  it  would  be  a  pity  to  cover  up  that  pretty  dross,  my 

r,  don't  you,  Fcrmor  ?  " 

••  What  do  yew  think,  uncle  1      Your  opinion  suffices  me." 

"  I  think  you  can  just  as  well  draw  back  a  little  from  the 

it  of  the  fire,  if  you  find  it  too  much  for  you,"  said  the  'Squire. 
"  It  is  not  every  one,  like  myself,  that  can  bear  a  firo  nearly  all 
the  year  round." 

Kate  withdrew,  as  he  suggested,  seating  herself  upon  a  low 
•tool  by  the  side  of  his  arm-chair,  and  just  within  its  shadow. 

"  The  Iron  Cousin  has  not  told  us  how  it  chances  that  we 
arc  favoured  with  his  unexpected  apparition  at  Heathcote  this 
Thur5«l:iy  cvuiiiii^,''  sin-  said. 


THE    IRON    COUSIN. 


"  Sir  Dullarton  sent  over  word  that  he  should  not  expect  me 
to-night,  having  an  appointment  with  a  gentleman  from  town  on 
business  ;  and  as  I  happened  to  learn  that  another  rheumatic  em- 
bargo had  been  laid  on  your  liberty,  'Squire,  in  consequence  of 
which  you  would  be  unable  to  leave  the  house,  I  came  over  to 
play  a  game  of  chess  with  you." 

"  Thank  you  kindly,  my  dear  fellow,  for  your  thought  of  me. 
What  a  fortunate  petted  old  chap  I  am,  to  have  two  such  hearts 
to  spoil  me  !  Here's  Kate,  stayed  at  home  to  take  care  of  me, 
and  make  me  comfortable,  and  amuse  me,  dressing  all  the  same, 
that  I  might  see  how  she  would  have  looked  ;  and  here  are  you, 
Fermor,  come  to  see  after  me,  and  keep  me  company,  lest  I 
should  be  lonely." 

"  Kate  gave  up  the  ball  for  your  sake !  I  knew  there  was 
some  such  motive  beneath  her  pretended  whim,"  exclaimed  Fer- 
mor,  in  his  ardent  voice. 

"  So  you  can't  give  me  credit  for  even  a  passing  fit  of  nota- 
bility, or  prudence,  or  wisdom,  or  any  one  thing  decent,"  smiled 
Kate. 

The  voice  lowered  into  still  deeper  ardour,  with  a  tremulous 
breath  that  increased  rather  than  abated  its  earnestness,  as  Fer- 
mor said,  "  I  would  fain  give  you  credit  for — I  could  almost  be- 
lieve, that  yet  another  reason  had  its  share  in  inducing  you  to 
stay  away  from  this  dance,  this  public  ball,  Kate.  Am  I  hoping 
too  much  ?  you  thought  of  me — of  my  words  ?  " 

That  tone,  as  usual,  went  straight  to  her  heart ;  and  as 
usual,  the  strength  of  appeal  roused  her  spirit  of  resistance 
against  the  emotion,  as  well  as  her  perversenes?  towards  him  who 
caused  it. 

"  You  deem  it  too  incredible  a  hope  that  I  should  be  swayed 
by  anything  approaching  to  right  or  reason,"  she  answered  lightly. 
"  You  are  wise ;  never  presume  too  much  upon  your  cousin 
Kate's  listening  to  either,  for  a  longer  space  than  it  takes  to 
think  of  a  wilful  rejoinder.  And  so  you  dreamed  that  your  wor- 
ship's iron  opinions,  backed  by  one  in  posthumous  marble  weighed 
with  me." 


THE   IRON    COUSIN.  287 

"  Kate,"  said  Fermor  "Worthington,  almost  sternly,  "  as 
many  taunts  as  you  please,  to  myself;  but  I  will  not  suffer  so 
much  as  the  hint  of  one  towards  him  who  is  gone.  When  he  was 
alive,  I  would  never  permit  him  to  be  the  object  of  your  vivacity 
of  speech  ;  now  that  he  is  dead,  be  assured  I  will  still  less 
endure  it/' 

"  And  you  believe  that  granite  influence  is  to  hold  its  primi- 
tive force  unchanged,  over  others  as  well  as  yourself?  If  you, 
as  a  dutiful  son,  think  it  necessary  to  allow  this  cold,  dark 
shadow  to  exercise  its  ascendancy  over  your  actions,  why  should 
any  one  else  think  themselves  bound  to  the  same  observance  ? 
Especially,  so  mercurial  and  flighty  a  creature  as  myself.  Do 
not  believe  it,  cousin  mine ;  I  hold  myself  fairly  and  freely 
excused." 

Fermor  turned  away ;  and  in  his  calm,  self-contained  man- 
ner, asked  'Squire  Ueathcote  if  lie  would  let  him  set  the  chess- 
board. 

"Kir?  What,  my  dear  fellow?  Keally,  I  believe  I  was 
almost  dozing  off  into  a  nap,  while  you've  been  helping  Kate  to 
wind  her  skein ;  but  since  it's  finished,  we'll  have  a  battle. 
Let's  see,  whose  was  the  last  game  between  us  ?  Mine,  I 
think." 

When  Alicia  White  and  Cecil  Lascelles  came  back  from 
the  ball,  they  found  the  party  thus  quietly  seated ;  the 
'Squire  and  Fermor  still  deep  in  chess,  Kate  engaged  with  a 
book. 

Miss  White,  in  high  spirits  with  her  evening — during  which 
she  had  shone  as  an  undoubted  county  belle,  attired  in  a  style  to 
show  her  father's  riches  and  consequence,  and  her  own  supremely 
fashionable  taste— was  wakeful,  talkative,  gay,  and  coquettish 
She  seemed  inclined  to  indulge  still  the  vein  inspired  by  the 
scene  of  the  last  few  hours ;  and  Fermor  Worthington  became 
the  subject  of  all  her  engaging  attacks,  and  winning  blandishment* 
of  sweet  words,  soft  looks,  and  pretty  speech,  under  cover  of  toll- 
ing the  'Squire  all  the  particulars  of  the  delightful  dance. 

"  Not  tliat  1  should  have  fdt   so  reluctant  to  leave  it,  and 


288  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

comply  with  Mr.  Lascelles'  broad  bints  that  he  was  ready  tc 
come  away  whenever  I  pleased,  and  his  scarcely  polite  eagerness 
to  show  how  willing  he  was  to  return,  had  I  known  who  waa 
here,"  she  said,  with  a  significant  glance.  "  But  I  thought 
that  there  was  no  chance  of  our  seeing  you  at  Heathcote  this 
evening." 

Fermor  quietly  explained  the  reason  of  his  not  being  at 
Ditchley  Manor ;  and  then  added  :  "  Your  cavalier  was  less  at- 
tentive than  his  fair  partner  had  a  right  to  expect,  then  ?  " 

"  Nay,  I  expect  nothing,  I  exact  nothing  from  Mr.  Las- 
celles ;  his  courtesies  are  perfectly  indifferent  to  ine,"  said  Miss 
White. 

"  But  common  gallantry  required  that  he  should  pay  suffic- 
ing attention  to  the  lady  whose  escort  he  was,  for  the  evening," 
smiled  Fermor.  "  Cecil  Lascelles  is  generally  not  wanting  in 
such  observances.  No  one  more  prompt  in  fulfilling  the  ordi- 
nary matter-of-course  politenesses  of  society  than  he.  I  cannot 
think  what  could  possess  him  to  fail  on  such  an  occasion  as  this, 
when  his  assiduities  were  especially  demanded.  No  wonder  you 
complain.  Shall  I  call  him  to  account  for  his  remissness  ?  ?l 

"  You  are  laughing  at  me,  Mr.  Worthington ;  but  I  assure 
you  I  neither  looked  for  his  attentions,  nor  felt  hurt  at  not  hav- 
ing them  ;  still  less  (  complained  '  of  him.  I  only  wondered  at 
his  caring  so  little  for  the  charming  ball.  It  really  was  a  charm- 
ing ball ;  and  would  have  been  perfect,  if — if — one  other  partnei 
had  been  there." 

"  Ay,  the  poor  'Squire's  attack  was  vexatiously  timed,  to 
prevent  him  from  enjoying  the  dance  he  had  looked  forward  to," 
said  Fermor.  "  But  he  and  I  have  passed  anything  but  a  dull 
evening  together,  thanks  to  the  interest  of  a  game  that  has  held 
whole  nations  breathless  while  a  match  was  pending." 

"  And  only  think  of  Kate's  giving  up  her  first  ball  for  a  fancy 
to  stay  at  home  and  finish  a  book  she  was  absorbed  in.  Dressed 
and  all !  Yet  at  the  last  moment  she  would  not  go,  because  she 
remembered  an  exciting  third  volume  she  had  to  read.  I  couldn't 
make  out  the  whim  she  talked  of,  then  ;  but  now  I  understand 
It  w;is  doubtless  that  book." 


THE    IKON    CO  I  289 

As  Miss  White  looked  towards  Kate,  she  thought  she  now 
also  understood  why  Cecil  Lascclles  had  been  so  indifferent 
about  the  ball,  and  so  eager  to  leave  it.  With  his  elbow 
touching  the  back  of  Kate's  chair,  he  was  leaning  over  the  book 
she  held,  and  talking  to  her  in  a  low  voice  of  what  she  was 
reading. 

"  Kate  might  strike  a  stranger  as  capricious  and  whimsical, 
and  odd-tempered,  and  a  little  wilful ;  she  might  seem  so  to 
those  who  know  her  less  intimately  than  we  do,"  continued 
Alicia  White,  speaking  pityingly  and  considerately  ;  "  but  by  UB, 
who  are  aware  how  immensely  she  has  been  spoiled,  how  invari- 
ably our  dear  old  friend  the  'Squire  has  indulged  her,  and  given 
way  to  her,  it  is  hardly  to  be  wondered  at — we  can  make  allow- 
ance. She  is  a  dear,  sprightly,  delightful  creature, — with  all  her 
faults !  " 

"  All  her  faults  !  "  exclaimed  Fermor. 

••  Her  one  fault,  I  should  say;  which  is  quite  to  be  forgiven, 
considering  how  it  has  arisen.  In  spite  of  it,  Kate  is  really  a 
very  nice  girl  !  " 

"  She's "  Whatever  Fermor  Worthington  might  have 

been  about  to  say,  he  checked  himself  suddenly ;  and  picking  up 
a  jrlove  Miss  White  had  dropped,  presented  it  to  her. 

As  she  drew  it  on,  one  of  her  numerous  bracelets  came  un- 
clasped ;  and  after  an  ineffectual  attempt  to  re-snap  it  herself, 
she  held  forth  her  arm  to  Fermor,  saying: — "  Will  you  be  kind 
enough  to  fasten  this  troublesome  clasp  for  me  ?  I  cannot  sue- 
<ve<l  in  making  it  meet." 

"  Pity  the  Iron  Cousin  did  not  repair  to  the  Assembly- 
Room,  instead  of  coming  here,  when  he  got  leave  of  absence 
from  Dit.-hK-y  Manor  this  evening,"  said  Kate  Ircton,  raising  her 
eyes  from  her  volume  for  the  first  time  since  she  had  taken  it  up. 
•'  Think  of  the  loss  to  the  young  lady-dancers  !  What  an  acqui- 
sition so  much  gallantry  and  assiduity  would  have  been  to 
them!  Win.  rouM  ta  1  the  rude,  rough  metal  so 

capable  of  playing  the  jart  of  partm-r  '!  Who  would  have  imag- 
ined it  so  calculated  to  shine  V  Who  believed  it  so  well  vewed 


290  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

in  carpet  duties,  and  accomplished  in  ball-room  offices  and 
qualifications  ?  " 

"  You  have  made  a  slip  in  your  figure,  Kate,"  laughed  Cecil ; 
"  chalked  floors,  not  carpets,  are  usual  for  ball-rooms." 

"  No  matter  for  a  slip  in  the  figure,  since  I  am  not  dancing," 
returned  she.  "  Had  I  been  at  the  ball,  I  must  have  minded 
what  I  was  about.  There's  the  superiority  of  home.  One  may 
say  and  do  just  what  one  pleases.  A  trip  of  the  tongue,  or  ot 
the  foot,  brings  no  ill  consequences  ;  a  false  metaphor,  or  a 
light  word,  pass  unheeded  in  one's  own  room,  and  with  one's  own 
friends ;  whilst  abroad,  in  company,  the  least  false  step,  the 
merest  heedless  movement,  may  have  its  harmful  effect." 

"  Ball-room  associates  demand  nothing  beyond  graceful  car- 
riage and  good  dancing,"  observed  Ferrnor,  with  his  grave  smile ; 
"  home-friends  look  for  something  higher  and  better." 

"And  so  neither  watch -for  failure,  nor  spy  out  deficiencies," 
she  retorted.  "  Uncle  mine,  you  are  nodding  off  again.  No 
wonder ;  these  late  hours  will  not  do  for  us  stay-at  homes.  I'll 
ring  for  Robert,  and  the  chamber  candles ;  and  we'll  wish  our 
guests  good  night  and  good  rest." 


CHAPTER   XXXII, 

IT  was  late  the  next   morning,  when  the   party  assembled    at 
breakfast. 

"  Mr.  Worthington,  although  you  cannot  plead  the  fatigue  of 
last  night's  ball  as  an  excuse,  yet  I  think  you  are  suffering  from 
headache  this  morning,"  said  Alicia  White. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  be  looking  so  ill  as  to  warrant  the  imputa 
tion,"  he  answered,  smiling. 

Kate  was  bending  over  her  uncle's  chair,  arranging  cushions  • 
•o  that  the  slight  start,  and  furtive  glance  towards  Ferinor's  face 
at  Miss  White's  words,  were  unseen. 


THE    IKON    COUSIN  29  J 

"  Although  you  will  not  own  it,  yet  I  am  persuaded  it  is  tho 
ease,"  continued  tho  latter.  You  gentlemen  are  much  too  brave 
and  manly,  and  indifferent  to  pain,  ever  to  admit  you  ail  any 
thmir,  until  you  arc  compelled  to  own  yourself  downright  indis 
posed.  You  are  pale,  and  your  eyes  have  that  heavy  look  which 
t  know  means  headache.  I've  been  too  accustomed  to  watch 
poor  dear  papa's  looks,  and  find  out  when  he  has  one  of  his  bad 
headaches,  for  me  to  be  mistaken  in  the  signs." 

"  Since  you  pronounce  me  ill,  and  determine  to  make  me  an 
invalid,  whether  I  will  or  not,  I  suppose  I  must  submit  to  your 
fiat,"  said  Fermor  composedly,  showing  as  little  as  he  could  of 
the  annoyance  with  which  he  found  himself  and  his  looks  the 
theme  of  Miss  White's  observations,  and  the  subject  of  general 
remark. 

"  That  is  right,"  she  answered.  "  And  now,  I  must  have 
you  submit  to  my  prescription,  and  .follow  my  advice.  You 
must  sit  down  quietly  here,  with  your  back  to  the  light,  and  take 
a  cup  of  very  strong  tea,  which  I  will  give  you." 

"  I  generally  find  coffee  relieve  headache,  when  I  chance  to 
have  one,"  said  Fermor. 

"  That  is  quite  a  mistake,  I  assure  you,"  returned  Miss  White. 
"  I  have  often  heard  papa  insist  on  trying  coffee ;  and  many 
people  maintain  that  it  is  the  best  cure ;  but  there  is  nothing 
like  tea,  very  hot,  and  very  strong." 

"  Why  not  listen  to  excellent  counsel — advice  gratis  ?  "  said 
Kate.  "  Unless,  indeed,  the  iron  obduracy  hold  against  friendly 
interest  in  his  health,  as  well  as  against  most  other  pleasant 
tilings." 

I'Vrmor  silently  took  the  offered  seat,  by  Miss  White.  She 
was  in  the  habit  of  presiding  over  the  tea-equipage  at  one  end 
of  the  breakfast  table  ;  while  Kate  Ireton  poured  out  the  coffee 
at  the  other. 

As  Fermor  took  the  smilingly-presented  cup  from  Mitfl 
Whites  hand,  Cecil  said:— ':  And  now  give  me  a  cup  of  your 
exquisite  fragrant-steaming  beverage,  Kate.  Coffee,  to  my  taste. 
as  far  surpasses  tea,  as  glorious  rubious  Burgundy  transcend* 


292  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

your  cold,  pale,  starveling  Rhenish.  Only  a  German  can  find 
anything  to  laud  in  his  sickly,  yellow  Rhine-wines,  in  comparison 
with  the  generous  '  warm  south ;'  as  only  a  Chinese  Hong  mer- 
chant can  uphold  Souchong,  or  Bohea,  against  Mocha  and  Bcr- 
bice.  Save  at  Heathcote,  I  have  never  tasted  in  England  my 
favourite  berry-scented  drink  as  it  should  be.  On  the  continent, 
you  get  coffee ;  in  our  dear  island,  you  get  embrowned  water,  or 
mud  composed  of  grounds.  Your  coffee,  Kate,  might  be  sipped, 
with  closed  eyes,  and  make  us  fancy  ourselves  at  Florence 
again." 

"  And  with  this  blessing,"  said  the  'Squire ;  "  that  you 
wouldn't  have  to  open  them  to  brush  off  a  myriad  of  gnats  and 
mosquitoes,  that  come  buzzing  and  worrying  around  you." 

"  There  is  this  of  good  in  the  little  torments  you  mention, 
uncle,"  said  Kate  ;  "  they  give  you  warning,  by  their  fairy  trum- 
pet, when  they  are  about  to  commence  their  attack." 

"  Yes,  plague  take  'em,  they  do  ! "  said  the  'Squire.  "  Many 
a  time,  my  night's  rest  has  been  broken,  by  their  shrill  pipe  close 
to  my  ear,  sounding  its  ill-omened  song." 

"  A  stirring  reveille,  that's  all,  uncle  !  " 

"  An  evil  threat,  infallibly  fulfilled,"  he  answered.  "  Kate, 
Kate  !  your  partiality  for  Italy  will  make  you  even  defend  its 
pest  of  stinging  insects." 

She  laughed,  and  replied  :  "  Well,  I  give  up  the  gnats  ! 
Happy  the  cause  that  has  only  one  drawback  to  be  admitted  ! '' 

"  What  have  you  to  say  on  behalf  of  the  earthquakes,  Kate  ?  " 
said  Fermor.  "  Can  you  plead  anything  in  their  favour  ?  " 

"  They're  formidable  stumbling-blocks,  I  own,"  she  answered. 
"  I  tremble  at  the  thoughts  of  setting  up  any  safe  or  stedfast 
defence  for  them.  I'm  afraid  there's  nothing  stable  to  be  ad- 
vanced on  their  ground.  I  yield  before  the  earthquakes — for  all 
my  relationship  to  a  certain  substance  renowned  for  fortitude  and 
firmness." 

"  And  now,  having  swallowed  my  draught  like  an  obedient 
patient,  Miss  White,  permit  the  good  boy  his  customary  lump 
of  sugar,  with  a  little  cream  and  coffee  upon  it,"  said  Fermor 
as  he  moved  up  to  Kate's  end  of  the  table. 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  V>93 

"  Is  the  headache  better  ?  "  she  said,  as  she  filled  up  tho  cup 
lie  held  towards  her. 

"  It  was  never  bad.  I  did  not  sleep  well,  which  may  have 
>ned  the  ill-looks  that  Miss  White  was  so  kind  as  to  inter- 
pret into  illness  for  me." 

••  I5ut  you  were  paler  than  usual :  she  was  right  there,"  said 
Kate. 

"  Did  you  notice  how  I — did  you  see  me  ?  I  thought  yon 
were  looking  another  way  when  I  came  in ;  that  you  were  at- 
tending to  your  uncle,  Kate,"  he  said,  with  more  of  hurry  in  his 
voice  than  it  usually  had. 

"  Yes,  I  was,"  she  answered ;  "  but  don't  you  know  that 
women  have  the  faculty  of  looking  one  way  and  seeing  another  ? 
They're  like  flies,  with  eyes,  or  sight,  all  round  their  head. 
There's  your  dootress,  now,  for  instance,  with  her  eyes  fixed  upon 
the  urn  before  her  ;  but  she's  looking  sharp  out  to  see  that  you 
don't  transgress  orders.  You're  under  regimen,  you  know;  don't 
exceed  bounds.  Go  back  to  your  place,  where  you  can  be  within 
proper  medical  care." 

"  But  I  don't  own  myself  ill,"  said  Fermor. 

"  Sick  people  are  always  unruly,  and  unwilling  to  do  what 
they're  ordered,"  she  re'turned. 

"  Do  you  assume  the  responsibility  of  ordering  me,  and  en- 
suring uiy  cure  ?  "  he  said. 

"  Not  I ;  I  know  too  well  the  odium  that  attaches  to  inter- 
fering with  another  person's  professional  case,"  said  Kate. 
•  Koturu  to  your  original  physician,  as  in  duty  bound." 

"  Mr.  Worthington,  when  the  breakfast-cloth  is  removed,  I 
want  you  to  lift  me  down  that  fine  book  of  engravings — the  views 
of  our  British  Cathedrals,"  said  Miss  White.  "  It  is  in  the 
next  room  only  ;  shall  we  all  adjourn  there  ?  " 

They  wont  into  the  oak  parlour.  Miss  White,  by  question, 
comment,  appeal,  manoeuvre,  contriving  to  keep  Fermor  iu  at- 
tendance upon  her  and  the  book  of  prints:  until  he  resolutely 
broke  away,  and  jmne<I  Kato  and  Cecil,  who  were  at  another 
table ;  she  eopyini:  nuisic,  and  he  speaking  of  the  time  they  heard 
>t  together  abroad. 


294  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  Kate,  shall  I  read  you  the  new  poem  I  told  you  was  just 
come  out  ?  "  said  Fermor.  "  I  see  it  is  among  the  last  book 
parcel  from  town." 

"  No  ;  don't  iet  us  take  you  away  from  what  you  are  about," 
she  replied. 

"  I  am  about  nothing ;  I  am  an  idle  man ;  I  want  you  to 
give  me  employment,"  he  replied. 

"  Your  late  employer  is  wondering  why  you  quit  her  service  ; 
she  has  not  done  with  you  yet.  Go  ;  Alicia  will  find  you  occu- 
pation. I've  none  for  you,"  said  Kate. 

"  Let  me  read  aloud ;  you  said,  the  other  day,  you  could 
copy  music  and  listen  at  the  same  time." 

"  But  don't  you  see  I'm  listening  already  to  talk  ?  and 
good  talk  is  worth  good  reading,  any  time.  Books  are  excellent 
companionship,  but  conversation  is  even  more  sociable  than 
books." 

"  Then  let  me  partake  of  what  I  will  allow  to  be  yet  plea- 
santer  than  what  I  proposed,"  he  said,  drawing  a  chair  near  her. 
"What  was  your  subject  ?  " 

"  This  glorious  composition ;  it  is  full  of  fire,  and  vigour,  and 
dramatic  effect.  You  should  have  heard  La  Rosa  in  it,  us  \vc 
have  ;  and  seen  her  play  it  too ;  her  acting  is  as  great  as  her 
singing — and  that  is  saying  much,"  said  Cecil. 

"  It  is  a  great  performance,"  returned  Fermor.  "  She  played 
the  part  here  in  England  last  season,  and  I  made  a  point  of 
going  each  night  she  played  while  I  was  in  London." 

"  Were  you  in  London  this  winter  ?  Then  you  could  leave 
vour — leave  home — though  not  come  abroad,"  said  Kate,  quickly. 

"  We  went  to  town  for  a  short  period  together.  I  was  anx- 
ious to  have  the  best  medical  advice  upon  the  case  that  could  be 
procured ;  and  my  father  consented  to  oblige  me  by  going  up  to 
London,  and  consulting  several  of  our  most  eminent  physicians. 
The  opera  was  among  the  few  amusements  he  cared  for,  and  wo 
frequently  went." 

':  My  dear  'Squire,"  said  Alicia  White,  ';  the  morning  is 
sunny,  and  beautifully  warm ;  a  little  gentle  turn  in  the  rose 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  295 

walk  will  do  you  good.  You  shall  lean  upon  my  arm.  Let  me 
have  the  pleasure  of  attending  you.  And  here  is  your  cane, 
nnd  here  is  your  garden-hat." 

"  La  Rosa  herself  couldn't  act  the  part  of  a  perfectly  charm- 
ing young  lady  to  greater  perfection!"  smiled  Cecil  Lascellcs, 
as  Miss  White  led  away  the  'Squire,  with  a  great  parade  and 
display  6f  sweet  behaviour,  and  pretty  attentions,  and  becoming 
ministry  to  age.  "  Played  to  a  nicety !  No  one  can  say  the 
lovely  Alicia  is  not  an  accomplished  actress,  although  she  is  lost 
to  the  stage  and  the  public  at  large  !  'Tis  a  thousand  pities  so 
much  talent  should  be  confined  to  so  limited  a  sphere.  However, 
she  herself  is  evidently  too  modest  to  think  so ;  and  is  as  lavish 
of  her  art-powers  in  her  own  private  circle  of  friends  as  she 
could  be,  were  a  theatre  her  field  of  action." 

"  We  treat  her  with  scarcely  more  respect  than  it  is  the  custom 
to  observe  in  discussing  the  merits  of  a  public  favourite.  Her 
back  is  scarcely  turned,  ere  we  make  her  our  theme,"  said  Fermor 
Worth ington,  with  his  grave  smile. 

"  I  ought  to  apologize  for  treating  a  friend  of  yours  with  so 
little  ceremony,"  said  Cecil,  frankly,  to  Fermor  and  Kate.  "  I 
forgot  that  she  was  related  to  you  both ;  and  indeed,  her  being  a 
guest  here  xmght  alone  to  have  secured  her  from  my  freedom  of 
remark.  But  I  don't  know  how  it  is — those  sugar  words,  that 
honey  look,  and  that  soft  creep-mouse  manner  of  hers,  disturb 
me  beyond  any  tartness  and  bluffness  I  ever  encountered.  There's 
something  perfectly  exasperating  to  my  peculiar  nature  about 
such  uniform  sweetness.  But,  forgive  me;  I'm  transgressing 
again  ;"  and  he  laughed  at  his  own  vehemence. 

"  You  ought  to  direct  your  apology  chiefly  to  her  kinsman," 
said  Kate.  "  His  was  the  rebuke.  No  wonder;  she's  a  young 
;fter  his  own  heart.  Such  a  pattern  of  perfection  as  Alicia 
White— so  perfect  in  propriety,  so  perfect  in  amiability,  so  per- 
fect in  lady-like  or  ladyish  conduct,  so  completely  the  model  of 
what  the  Iron  Cousin  would  have  a  woman  to  be— -she  must  b« 
-juito  to  his  taste." 

:,c  is  neither  to  my  taste,  nor  is  she  by  any  mean*  what  1 
would  have  a  woman  U>1  Fcrmor. 


296  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

Kate's  brightest  and  most  beaming  look  flashed  across  he! 
face ;  but  she  kept  it  stedfastly  bent  over  what  she  was  about. 

"  No  !  What  fault  can  you  possibly  have  to  find  with  her  ?' 
exclaimed  Cecil. 

"  Nay ;  I  have  no  better  reason  for  my  want  of  taste,"  said 
Fernior,  with  his  peculiar  grave  smile  lurking  in  his  eyes,  "  than 
that  she  is  neither  more  nor  less  than  Miss  White  of  Egg — 
ham." 

Again  the  bright  flash  crossed  Kate's  cheek  and  brow ;  but 
still  she  neither  moved  nor  spoke. 

"  '  By  no  means  what  you  would  have  a  woman  to  be  ! '  "  pur- 
sued Cecil,  reverting  to  Fermor's- words  ;  "why,  what  would  you 
have  in  a  woman,  if  it  be  not  the  qualities  that  characterizes  the 
fair  Alicia  ?  I  thought  it  was  only  my  own  luckless,  truant 
disposition,  that  found  anything  to  dislike  in  such  feminine  per- 
fection. I  thought  you,  like  most  men,  admired  sweetness  and 
gentleness,  and  mild  consideration,  and  a  soft  voice,  and  an  as- 
senting speech,  with  sympathy  and  interest  in  look,  manner,  and 
tone?" 

"  I  do,"  said  Fermor,  composedly,  though  increasing  in  fer- 
vour as  he  went  on.  "  But  insipidity  is  not  sweetness ;  silliness 
is  not  gentleness ;  indifference  is  not  consideration ;  a  silky 
murmur  is  not  a  soft  voice ;  a  perpetual  agreeing  is  not  assent  _ 
a  vacant,  meaningless,  vapid  lanquish  is  not  warmth  of  interest 
or  sympathy.  Alicia  White  is  an  incontestably  faultless  young 
lady,  but  she  does  not  fulfil  my  idea  of  that  glorious  and,  per 
haps,  most  perfect  of  God's  creatures — a  womanly  woman." 

There  was  a  pause  ;  the  pause  that  frequently  ensues  in  con 
versation,  where  one  of  the  talkers  has  spoken  in  the  unmistake 
able  tone  of  deep  and  powerful  feeling — more  especially  when 
he  chances  to  be  of  grave  temperament,  and  habitually  calm 
manners. 

"  Come,  let  us  have  a  particular  description  of  your  beau- 
ideal  of  womanhood,"  said  Cecil,  at  last,  lightly,  in  reply. 

"  Excuse  me ;  I  hold  it  too  sacred  a  theme  to  be  approached 
with  a  mocking  lip,"  said  Fermor,  in  a  manner  which  he  made 
is  correspondingly  playful  with  Cecil's  as  might  be. 


THE   IRON    CO  I  297 

"  If  the  Iron  Cousin  speaks,  no  fear  but  thfc  lip  shall  be 
sombre  enough,  in  all  conscience,"  said  Kate.  "  Pray  let  us 
dave  his  sombre,  sober  sentiments  upon  what  a  woman  should  be 
Ilr'll  supply  what  he  deems  the  proper  degree  of  reverential 
gravity,  while  we'll  engage  to  receive  it  with  due  mirth." 

"  Scoffers  arc  not  fit  audience  for  a  devotee  proclaiming  hi" 
S'll.-iun  faith,"  answered  Fermor. 

"  Solemn,  indeed  ! "  laughed  she. 


When  the  'Squire  returned  from  his  garden  walk,  Kate 
that  he  looked  heated  and  fatigued.  She  left  her  copy- 
in.-.  ;ind  went  towards  him,  insisting  that  he  should  loungo  in 
his  arm-chair,  and  rest;  adding,  that  if  a  little  nap  crept  ovrr 
him,  he  was  not  to  be  unkind  and  repulse  it,  and  pretend  that  ho 
didn't  want  it,  and  bid  it  keep  its  distance,  under  a  notion  of 
being  very  virtuous  and  nonsomnolent.  She  ordered  it  so  that 
the  conversation  should  continue,  yet  in  such  a  tone  as  ought 
not  interrupt  the  sleeper.  Her  own  subdued  roice  set  the 
example  to  the  others;  and  this  quiet,  equable  murmur  had,  as 
she  intended,  rather  the  effect  of  lulling  than  of  disturbing 
him. 

1  !<•  was  much  refreshed  when  he  woke  up,  and  chatted  away 
with  all  his  usual  cheerfulness  and  good-humoured  heartiness. 

You  have  often  bid  me  choose  some  ornament  as  a  keepsake, 
uncle  mine,"  she  said,  playfully,  as  she  leaned  over  him,  and 
fondled  his  grey  hair,  admiring  its  thickness,  and  softness,  and 
fihvry  sheen,  as  the  light  fell  upon  it  from  the  nearest  window. 
'•  You  shall  give  me  some  of  these  looks  for  a  bracelet." 

••Some  of  my  hair,  child!   why,  I'm  as  grey  as  a  badger! 
There  might  have  been  a  time  when  Harry  Ileathcote's  brown 
locks  were  worthy  to  figure  on  the  arm   of  a  fair  damsel  who 
should  have  done  him  the  honour  to  wear  them  ;  but  now,  what 
should  you  do  with  :i  bracelet  of  this  grizzk-d,  fros' 
,sted  silver,  uncle  ;   I  like  it,  that's  enough. 
It" 


208  THE   IRON    COUSIN, 

"  Pooh,  pooh,  you  jade !  you're  joking  ?  " 

"  I'm  so  far  from  joking,  that  you  shall  find  me  in  very  serious, 
angry  earnest,  if  you  persist  in  refusing  me.  You  have  over 
and  over  pressed  me  to  have  a  parcel  of  trinkets  I  don't  care  t 
straw  for ;  and  now  I've  found  out  something  I  should  realty 
prize,  you  wo'n't  let  ine  have.it.'1 

"  Give  me  a  kiss,  you  baggage!  and  have  it  as  you  will." 

"  The  old  termination  to  all  our  differences,  uncle !  You'd  far 
better  begin  there,  knowing  you  will  always  have  to  end  there. 
It  would  save  us  both  a  vast  deal  of  trouble,  and  you'd  get  your 
payment  in  advance, — a  kiss  at  first,  instead  of  at  last.  Cash  on 
demand ;  ready-money  business  ;  a  prompt  caress,  instead  of  book- 
ing it  against  me,  and  being  brought  to  book  yourself.  It  would 
be  but  asking  and  having  then,  for  you  as  well  as  me." 

"  And  what  shall  the  clasp  be  ?  "  said  Cecil.  "  How  say  you 
to  rubies,  'Squire  ?  Would  they  not  contrast  well,  both  with  the 
hair  of  the  bracelet,  and  the  arm  it  is  to  embellish ;  or  pearls, 
for  harmony's  sake  ?  " 

"  No,  no ;  nothing  so  showy  as  the  one,  or  so  washy  as  the 
other,"  said  Kate. 

"  Diamonds  would  shame  the  homeliness  of  tho  rest,  I  sup- 
pose," said  the  'Squire. 

"  Certainly,  uncle ;  the  glitter  of  brilliants  would  ill  assort  with 
the  home  thoughts  and  home  happiness  that  will  be  woven  into 
my  bracelet." 

"  Why  not  let  the  clasp  be  of  plain  gold  ?  "  said  Fermor ; 
"  what  could  so  well  typify  the  donor's  solid  sterling  qualities  ?  " 

"  I  am  already  represented  in  my  grey  locks,"  said  the  'Squire. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what,  uncle,  I  think  I'll  have  an  iron  clasp.  It 
will  make  a  good  guard.  It  will  be  strong,  stern,  grim,  unrelent- 
ing ;  no  fear  of  the  fastening  giving  way  and  coming  loose;  it  will 
be  odd,  uncouth,  ugly ;  no  fear  of  any  one  being  tempted  to  steal 
my  bracelet.  Yes,  I'll  decide  upon  having  an  iron  clasp  to  it.  I 
think  I  have  seen  such  curiously  wrought ;  I'll  spare  no  pains  to 
get  one,  or  to  havo  one  made  for  me." 

"  I  think  it  would  look  very  well ;  it  will  be  in  good  keeping 
with  the  iron-grey  hair,"  laughed  the  'Squire. 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  299 

u  And  form  a  rich  dark  relief  against  the  lily  whiteness  it  ia 
to  set  off,"  said  Cecil. 

"  I  rather  think  it  is  adopted  with  an  eye  to  some  such  effect, 
is  it  not,  Kate?"  Fermor  said.  "  Its  grave  sobriety  is  intended 
as  a  heightener  to  the  silver  hair  and  the  snowy  skin,  serving  to 
enhance  their  pure  simplicity  of  beauty,  by  its  own  admitted  lack 
of  attraction." 

"  Ay,  it  is  chosen  as  a  foil :  a  staid,  dull,  lustreless,  unsightly, 
but  useful  and  worthy  object,  well  fitted  for  its  purpose  of  keep- 
ing all  firm  and  fast.  Virtue,  and  morality,  and  propriety,  and 
decorum,  and  stern  duty,  and  all  the  cold,  uncomfortable,  hard, 
austere  goodnesses,  are  embodied  in  an  iron  clasp.  Iron  it  shall 
be." 

As  Kate  concluded,  she  oast  one  glance  at  Fermor.  He  had 
iimvt :<1  away,  and  was  looking  down  in  silence,  with  his  lips  set 
firm,  as  IK;  drew  a  book  of  prints  towards  him,  and  began  to  turn 
over  the  leaves. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

A  MORNING  or  two  after  this,  Kate  came  flying  into  the  room  where 
her  uncle  sat  with  Fermor  Worthington,  who  was  reading  the 
newspaper  to  him. 

Fermor  had  been  staying  the  last  few  days  at  the  Hall;  and 
talked  of  returning  home  that  afternoon. 

u  Now,  uncle,  listen  to  me,"  she  said,  eagerly.  "  First,  there's 
your  kiss  for  having  granted  my  request;  and  secondly,  I'll  tell 
you  what  the  request  is." 

"  Well,  what  now,  hussy  ?" 

"  Uncle,  Matty  tells  me  Ben  is  in  disgrace.  That  he  baa  been 
"guilty  of  some  neglect  or  forgetfulness ;  that  he  omitted  to  obey 
some  order  you  gave  about  Chesnut  Phillis's  mash.  Is  it  so  ?" 

"  Yes ;  that  lad  is  very  careless  of  late.  I  don't  know  what'a 
ouine  to  him."  said  the  'Squire,  with  a  displeased  look  clouding 


300  THE    IRON    COUSUJ. 

his  face.  "  He  used  to  be  the  most  punctual,  orderly  young  fel? 
low  that  one  could  wish  to  have  about  the  horses.  But  he  has 
for  some  time  past  been  so  dull,  and  stupid,  and  forgetful,  that 
I've  determined  to  read  him  a  lesson.  I  was  obliged  to  speak 
very  sharply  to  him  this  morning  when  I  visited  the  stable,  and 
threatened  that  the  next  time  I  heard  complaints  of  him,  he 
should  go." 

"  Go !  what,  Ben  Dimble  !  the  boy  who  used  to  lead  Shetland 
Bobby — your  Kate's  little  pony,  uncle  ?  " 

"  If  he  don't  behave  better — if  he's  guilty  of  any  more  such 
blunders — yes,"  said  the  'Squire,  stoutly. 

"  The  lad's  .very  unhappy,  uncle;  Matty  tells  me  he's  fit  to 
hang  himself,  to  think  he's  offended  you.  Your  angry  words,  and 
threat  of  dismissal,  have  almost  broken  his  heart.  I  want  to  take 
him  some  kind  message  from  you;  to  tell  him  you've  forgiven  him, 
and  will  overlook  his  remissness  this  time,  on  condition  of  better 
care  in  future.  Let  me  take  the  poor  lad  some  comfort,  uncle.' 

"  No,  no ;  he  don't  deserve  it.  Let  him  smart  a  little.  It 
will  do  him  good,"  said  the  'Squire. 

"  Uncle,  look  at  me,"  said  Kate. 

She  took  his  face  between  both  her  hands,  and  held  it  close  to 
hers,  while  she  gazed  straight  into  his  eyes,  and  then  gave  him 
three  or  four  hearty  kisses. 

"  You  monkey  !  how  dare  you  get  the  better  of  me  thus  ?  " 
smiled  the  'Squire. 

"  Because  it  is  the  better,  uncle.  Good  for  you,  better  for 
me,  best  for  poor  Ben." 

And  away  she  flew,  laughing,  on  her  errand  of  grace. 

"  The  lad  hardly  deserves  to  be  let  off  so  easily,  though,"  said 
the  'Squire,  the  shade  of  displeasure  crossing  his  face  again  aa 
he  thought  of  Ben's  delinquency ;  "  he  ought  by  rights  to  have 
been  left  to  feel  the  sting  of  my  just  reprimand  for  a  few  hours 
longer.  It  would  have  taught  him  that  I  don't  choose  to  be  tri- 
fled with." 

"  Then  why  did  you  yield  to  Kate's  pleading  ?  "  said  Fermor 
'  It  was  a  piece  of  kind-hearted  sympathy  on  her  part,  no  doubt 


THK    IRON    COUSIN.  301 

but  if  you  felt  that  it  was  undeserved, — you  who  know  the  merit* 
of  the  case  while  she  could  not  judge  them  correctly — why  did 
you  not  withstand  her  entreaties  ?  Besides,  forgive  me,  my  dear 
old  friend,  but  indeed  you  do  wrong  to  give  way  so  entirely  and 
uniformly  to  Kate's  wishes,  whatever  they  may.  be.  It  feeds  her 
wilfulncss,  her  love  of  power.  It  makes  her  arbitrary,  exacting. 
It  fosters  the  single  point  of  imperfection  in  her  character.  Yon 
should  know  when  to  deny  her,  for  her  own  sake ;  and  from  the 
depth  of  my  soul  I  affirm,  I  speak  but  for  her  sake." 

"  Ah,  my  dear  fellow,  it's  easy  for  yon  to  say  this " 

"Easy!"  was  echoed  within  Fermor  Worthington's  heart; 
though  by  no  uttered  word  did  he  interrupt  the  'Squire. 

"  But  you'd  find  it  as  difficult  as  I  do  to  resist  her,  were  she 
to  plead  to  you  as  she  does  to  me." 

"  Difficult,  but  not  impossible,"  was  Fennors  reply. 

"Nay,  impossible,"  returned  the  'Squire, "  as  you'd  allow  were 
you  tried  as  I  am.  Were  you  to  feel  those  soft  bright  curls 
drooping  over  your  face — to  see  those  clear  eyes  looking  into  yours 
— to  have  that  fresh  rosy  mouth  within  an  inch  of  your  own,  pour- 
ing out  its  gentle  yet  earnest,  playful  yet  pressing  entreaties,  you'd 
own,  as  I  do,  that  there's  no  answering  her  in  any  other  way  than 
as  she  wishes." 

Ft  rinor  drew  a  deep  inward  breath  ;  and  then  he  said,  in  a 
low  voice:  "  I  should  find  strength,  courage,  by  thinking  of  her- 
self, instead  of  her  beauty." 

•  Ay,  but  her  beauty  is  so  much  part  of  herself,  that  I  can't 
separate  them,  for  the  life  of  me,"  said  the  'Squire.  "  You,  m) 
dear  fellow,  are,  as  she  truly  calls  you,  the  Iron  Cousin,  and  have 
all  the  requisite  firmness,  and  self-command,  and  rectitude  of 
judgment  to  distinguish  accurately,  and  to  act  consistently ;  bat 
I.  alas !  can  only  love  her,  and  therefore  indulge  her." 

"  Love  her  and  therefore  restrain  her,  in  all  tenderness,  in  all 
affection,  you  should  say,  dear 'Squire,"  said  Fermor. 

"  I  illicit  s.iv  it.  l.ut  1  fear  I  should  not  do  it  1  the 

S.niire. 

Miss  White  now  crime  in,  proposing  to  take  the  'Squire  a  tura 


302  THE    IKON    COUSIN. 

in  the  garden,  as  the  sun  shone  full  and  warm  upon  the  rose-walk 
she  said.  But  just  as  she  had  brought  him  his  stick,  his  gloves, 
his  hat,  and  all  the  other  etceteras  she  judged  fit  to  equip  him 
with,  Kate  returned ;  and  finding  her  uncle  about  to  repeat  the 
expedition  which  she  thought  had  before  over-fatigued  him  taken 
just  at  noontide,  interfered  with  the  arrangement  very  perempto- 
rily; and,  in  her  eagerness,  used  some  not  particularly  ceremo- 
nious or  polite  expressions  to  Alicia  White  for  proposing  it. 

"  As  you  please,  Kate,  deaf,"  replied  she,  with  an  air  of  meek- 
ness and  injured  innocence  ;  "  but  the  dear  'Squire  will  bear  me 
witness  that  he  said  he  enjoyed  his  walk  the  other  day,  or  I  should 
not  have  thought  of  asking  him  to  repeat  it.  I  imagined  you 
were  engaged,  too  ;  that  you  wanted  to  stay  and  hear  Mr.  Wor- 
thington  read,  and  would  be  glad  of  some  one  to  attend  your  uncle 
in  your  stead." 

"  I  can  fancy  nothing  that  could  make  me  glad  to  be  away 
from  uncle,  or  pleased  to  see  any  one  else  supply  my  place  near 
him,"  said  Kate,  haughtily. 

"  No  need  to  put  yourself  in  a  pet,  Kate,  dear,  or  to  speak 
with  such  a  princess  air,"  returned  Miss  White.  "  Poor  little 
I  only  wished  to  offer  my  services,  in  case  they  could  be  made 
useful  or  agreeable." 

"  When  they  are  either — to  me,  I'll  ask  you  for  them,"  replied 
she. 

"  Kate  !  "  exclaimed  Fermor,  in  a  voice  that  made  her  start. 

"  A  spark  of  anger  from  your  eyes  !  "  she  said. 

"  Struck  out  of  them  by  your  hard,  improper  speech,  Kate," 
he  returned. 

"  By  my  flint  against  your  iron,  good  cousin  !  "  she  replied, 
with  a  laugh. 

"  Oh,  pray  don't  let  me  be  the  cause  of  getting  poor,  dear 
Kate  into  disgrace  !  "  said  Miss  White.  "  I  can  quite  forgive 
her  any  little  fit  of  temper.  She  don't  mean  it;  it's  only  her  way, 
To  give  her  time  to  recover,  I'll  go  and  take  a  turn  in  the  garden 
>y  myself." 

A  silence  followed  Miss  White's  departure.     At  length  tho 


THE   IRON    COUSIN.  303 

"Squire  said  :  "  My  Kate,  what  made  you  so  bluff  to  poor  Miss 
White  ?     What  had  she  done  to  affront  you  ?  " 

"  She  did  uot  affront  me — she  never  means  to  affront  any  one 
hhc's  only  too  civil,  too  fearful  of  giving  offence.     It  is  that  which 
provokes  me  in  her." 

"  But  you  really  should  not  let  your  feeling  provoked  make 
you  behave  uncourteously,  my  dear.  Remember  you  are  in  your 
own  house,  my  Kate,  and  should  never  forget  what  is  due  to  a 
guest.1' 

"  Anywhere — to  any  one — Kate  should  forbear  from  other  be- 
haviour than  becomes  her  as  a  lady — as  a  woman,"  Fernior  said 
in  a  (juiet  tone. 

"  Then,  you  mean  to  say  my  treatment  of  Miss  White  wis  un- 
becoming either  lady  or  woman  ?  But  no  wonder  you  reprove 
any  one  who  dares  to  speak  less  than  obsequionsly  to  Alicia 
White." 

"  I  am  not  thinking  of  Alicia  White;  I  am  thinking  of  you, 
K.-itr."  -.till  Fcrmor,  gravely. 

"  And  what  of  me,  pray  ?  Say  out  your  thought,  by  all 
in-  ans." 

"  That,  for  Kate's  own  sake,  I  would  beseech  her  to  set  a 
guard  upon  her  freedom  of  tongue  ;  to  bear  in  mind  how  ill  it  be- 
fits one  like  herself  to  be  thus  ungracious;  to  reflect,  in  time,  that 
a  woman  who  speaks  thus  trenchantly,  thus  iutcmperately — who 
can  be  so  rude,  so  imperious,  so  careless  of  wounding  the  feelings 
of  those  with  whom  she  is  in  constant  intercourse — weakens  the 
1  of  her  friends,  and  instead  of  their  feeling  it  a  privilege  to 
know  her,  she  becomes  not  pleasant  to  live  with." 

"  And  what  is  the  saying  such  harsh  things  as  these  but  rude  *  " 
she  returned. 

"Not  rude;  candid." 

•-  Hair-splitting!" 

"  Not  so ;  I  can  clearly  define  the  line  between  rudeness  and 
candour.  The  former  is  merely  a  vent  to  spleen — an  entirely  self 
ish  feeling — a  total  disregard  of  those  of  others,  in  the  relief  to 
our  own  ;  but  candour  ha.*  for  tin-  aim  of  its  frank  speeches  the 
welfare  and  amelioration  of  those  with  whom  it  deals." 


304  THE   IRON    COCSIN. 

u  Preaching ! " 

There  was  a  pause. 

"  I  cannot  oear  to  see  my  Kate  vexed ;  I  cannot  have  hef 
roughly  chidden,"  said  the  'Squire. 

"  I  have  hardly  the  right ;  I  own  I  seem,  even  to  myself, 
scarcely  warranted  in  taking  this  tone  of  admonishment ;  but  on 
the  strength  of  our  relationship,  and,  still  more,  out  of  the  sin- 
cerity and  warmth  of  my  esteem  for  Kate's  finer  qualities,  togeth- 
er with  my  conviction  that  the  force  of  her  character  is  such,  that 
it  could  effect  its  own  cure  of  its  single  defect,  if  it  chose  serious- 
ly to  undertake  the  task,  I  venture  to  speak  out  thus  plainly." 

"  And  why  should  she  undertake  anything  half  so  trouble- 
sorne  ?  "  said  the  'Squire  ;  "  when  she's  very  delightful  as  she  is. 
notwithstanding  her  one  defect,  as  you  call  it.  In  spite  of  Kate's 
pccasional  freaks  of  wilfulness — like  my  chestnut  mare — she's 
thorough  bred." 

"  It  is  because  she  is  thorough  bred — a  noble  creature — that 
we  would  fain  see  her  without  a  single  blemish,"  returned  Fcr 
mor. 

"  You  want  perfection  !— which  is  rarely  seen  in  man  or  horse, 
still  less  in  woman  or  mare,"  laughed  the  'Squire. 

"  The  rarer,  the  more  precious — when  it  is  attained,"  said 
Fcrmor. 

"  And  Kate  could  attain  this  perfection,  you  mean  to  say  ?  " 
pursued  the  'Squire. 

"  I  do.     Kate  might  be  anything  she  wishes  to  be." 

"  He  says  I  have  force  of  character  sufficient  to  achieve  great 
things,  you  hear,  uncle ;  but  it  is  clear  he  believes  it  to  be  a  Her- 
culean task  of  remove,  from  my  present  state,  to  perfection,"  said 
Kate.  "  He  thinks  me  far  enough  from  it  now." 

There  was  no  reply  ;  and  Kate  sat  with  a  swelling  heart,  and 
a  choking  sensation  in  her  throat,  that  in  most  women  would  have 
brought  tears. 

"  You  are  too  hard  upon  my  little  girl,"  said  the  'Squire,  re- 
proachfully, to  Feruior.  •"  Come  hither,  Kate  !  " 

She  went  and  leaned  over  his  chair,  while  the  old  man  drew 
her  cheek  against  his. 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  30;" 

"  Do  not  ask  him  to  be  gentler  to  me  and  my  faults  than  hii 
conscience  will  let  him,"  said  Kate.  "  The  Iron  Cousin  sacrific 
injr  truth  to  flattery,  would  be  worse  than  all.  It  would  be  un 
just  to  himself — hateful  to  me  !  " 

"  The  respect  he  feels  for  her  higher  and  better  nature,  will 
not  suffer  him  to  be  false  and  uncandid  towards  its  less  worth  j 
points,"  replied  Fermor.  "  It  is  the  very  strength  and  depth  of 
his  admiration  for  her  excellences  which  will  not  now  let  him  bo 
blind  or  silent  to  her  faults,  and  which  will  most  assuredly  pro 
vent  his  ever  flattering  them." 

"  Why,  Kate  ! "  said  Cecil  Lascelles,  as  he  entered  the  room 
at  this  moment,  "  what  has  detained  you  so  long  ?  I  have  been 
expecting  you  to  come  and  walk  in  the  shrubberies  for  the  last 
hour.  Did  you  not  say  you  would  join  me  there,  when  I  asked 
you  to  come  and  sec  how  well  the  young  bay-trees  are  thriving  in 
their  new  place  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  I  had  forgotten — I — I  could  not  come  ;  I  could  not 
let  uncle  walk  in  the  heat ;  it  did  not  agree  with  him  the  last 
time  he  went  out  in  the  middle  of  the  day.  But  he  is  get- 
tin;:  the  better  of  his  rheumatism  ;  aud,  I  trust,  very  shortly, 
ho  will  be  able  to  resume  his  rides,  and  walks  with  us  all,  ai 
usual." 

"Will  you  try  over  this  duet,  Kate?  I  think  the  'Squire 
will  like  to  hear  us  sing  it,"  said  Cecil,  going  to  the  piauo-forte, 
ami  placing  the  piece  he  spoke  of  upon  the  desk. 

"  With  pleasure,"  she  said.  "  Few  things  could  have  offered 
more  opportunely,  more  welcomely,  just  now.  Nothing  serves  so 
well  to  take  the  bitter  flavour  out  of  one's  spirits,  after  a  dose 
of  moral  physic,  as  sweet  music." 

They  went  on  as  usual,  with  piece  after  piece,  until  Alicia 
White  came  in,  and  challenged  the  'Squire  to  give  her  a  promised 
in  ehess  ;  and,  after  a  time,  Kate  heard  the  voice  of  Fer- 
mor  Worthington  taking  leave  of  her  uncle,  and  Baying  that  he 
meant  to  walk  home  instead  of  riding,  as  he  felt  inclined  for  a 
quiet  stroll  through  the  woods  ou  foot,  in  preference  to  the  dusty 
lanes  on  horseback.  Then  canie  a  few  more  words  of  farewell  tc 


306  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

Miss  White,  and  then  his  step  crossed  the  room  in  her  own 
direction. 

He  shook  hands  with  Cecil,  and,  a  moment  after,  Kate  found 
her  own  wifhin  his. 

"  Good  bye.  Kate  .  " 

"  Good  bye !  "  she  said,  at  the  end  of  her  breath,  while  her 
heart  stood  still,  as  with  a  sullen  weight,  which  she  took  to  be 
indignation,  resentment,  anger. 

"  Mr.  Lascelles,  pray  come  here  and  settle  this  knotty  point 
for  us,"  said  Alicia  White,  from  the  chess-table.  "  This  dear, 
modest  'Squire,  will  not  allow  that  he  can  decide  it;  he  wishes 
the  question  to  be  referred  to  you,  as  his  master,  and  highest 
authority." 

While  Cecil  obeyed,  Fermor  Worthington  drew  the  hand  he 
Btill  held  within  his  arm,  and  said  :  "  Kate,  you  will  not  refuse 
to  accompany  me  as  far  as  the  lawn  ?  " 

For  an  instant  she  drew  back ;  the  next  she  replied,  with  a 
forced  air  :  "  If  you  wish  it,  of  course." 

They  passed  in  silence  through  the  glass-door,  into  the  flower- 
garden  ;  the  rose-walk,  as  it  was  called,  running  close  to  that 
side  of  the  old  house,  and  ending  in  the  shrubberies  which  led  on 
to  the  open  space  or  lawn  forming  the  boundary  of  the  home- 
grounds  where  they  joined  the  park-woods. 

The  short  distance  they  walked  together  without  speaking, 
Kate  Ireton  employed  in  summoning  all  the  spirit  of  opposition 
and  resistance,  and  reckless  daring,  within  her;  in  stifling  rebel- 
lious emotion,  in  whispering  to  herself  the  causes  she  believed  she 
had  to  feel  offended ;  in  preparing  to  meet  what  she  thought  his 
3old,  stoical  composure,  with  coolness  and  indifference ;  in  forti- 
fying herself  against  what  she  had  sometimes  found  rise  traitor- 
ously within  her,  in  favour  of  one  who  evidently  saw  her  errors 
too  distinctly  to  entertain  aught  but  a  low  opinion  of  a  wayward, 
petulant,  spoiled  girl,  that  was  to  be  kindly  guided  and  won  into 
better  behaviour.  The  more  she  found  herself  inwardly  admit- 
ting arguments  and  thoughts  on  his  side,  the  more  vehemently 
did  she  resist  their  impression.  That  tone  of  right  which  he  al 


THE    IRON    COB  SOT.  307 

ways  took  with  her — while  secretly  owning  its  justice,  made  her 
only  the  more  sturdily  resist  its  influence.  Ik  gave  him  that  air 
of  superiority  to  which  she  was  unaccustomed  from  any  one  but 
himself ;  and  which  superiority,  the  more  she  internally  felt  and 
acknowledged,  the  less  she  was  willing  outwardly  to  succumb  to, 
or  own  to.  It  was  this  which  so  frequently  gave  to  her  manner 
the  contradictiousness,  and  even  avcrseness,  towards  himself, 
which  peculiarly  hurt  Fermor.  He,  who  could  have  no  idea  of 
the  source  of  her  being  more  perverse  to  him  than  to  any  one  else 
only  saw  and  felt  the  wounding  result. 

During  the  little  space  of  time  it  took  to  reach  the  garden, 
where  Kate  had  been  hurriedly  giving  way  to  pride  and  heated 
feeling,  Fermor  had  boon  collecting  patience  and  forbearance, 
and  temperate  firmness,  with  resolution  to  make  one  last  attempt 
to  arouse  her  better  self. 

"  Kate,"  he  said,  "  let  me  take  with  me  the  belief  that  you 
will  perform  what  is  due  to  your  own  truth  and  uprightness  of 
character.  You  will  promise  me  to  make  honourable  atonement 
to  Miss  White  for  your  discourtesy  of  to-day  ?  " 

"  Why  should  I  promise  to  offer  an  apology  where  I  cannot 
tVd  that  any  is  needed  ?  I  shall  not  promise,  since  that  will  be 
to  own  I  am  to  blame — which  I  do  not  perceive." 

"  Then  promise  nothing,  but  act  rightly." 

"  I  will  not  be  thus  dictated  to.     I  am  no  longer  a  child." 

"  But  a  grown  woman ;  and,  therefore " 

"  And,  therefore,  by  no  means,  of  course,  a  reasonable  being. 
You  ought  to  know — since  such  is  the  received  opinion — it  docs 
not  follow  that,  because  a  woman  attains  unto  the  ago  of  reason, 
she  necessarily  becomes  either  a  reasonable  creature,  or  willing 
to  listen  to  reason." 

"  You  will  not  plead  such  foolish  fallacies  in  your  c*»e, 
sun-ly,  K:iti«.  You  know  better  ;  you  know  that  you  are  iicith.-r 
waul  in-  in  MUM  nor  sense  of  right.  Come,  you  intend— you 
will  make  this  apoli^y,  will  you  not  ?  " 

Sin-  f.-lt  hiT.si-ir  jrivin.ir  way  at  his  change  of  voice,  a*  it  drop 
pt-d  int..  his  Mrn«<  dq.th  of  tour,  and,  tlurctoro,  nerved  herself 


SOS  THE   IRON    OOUSIN. 

to  say  :  "  I  am  aware  of  no  such  intention.  Besides,  I  know  not 
by  what  right  you  insist  thus  upon  forcing  me  into  doing  that 
which  I've  no  mind  to." 

"  Have  I  not  the  right  to  entreat  you  to  be  true  to  yourself? 
Does  not  my  privilege  of  relationship  alone  warrant  my  freedom 
of  speech  ?  Have  not  you  yourself,  Kate,  owned  the  claim  of 
cousinhood  between  us,  as  a  title  to  speak  our  minds  openly  and 
without  reserve  to  each  other  ?  " 

"  A  right  so  urged,  so  enforced,  becomes  a  tyranny,"  she  ex- 
claimed impetuously. 

"  Kate  !  " 

She  would  not  see  the  look  that  accompanied  this  single  word ; 
she  would  not  suffer  herself  to  listen  to  the  tone  of  appeal  in 
which  it  was  uttered.  With  a  passionate  longing  in  her  heart  to 
speak  the  words  which  should  ask  pardon  for  her  pcrverseness 
towards  himself,  and  confess  the  yearning  she  had  to  act  gener- 
ously and  rightly  by  another  as  he  suggested,  and  to  give  free 
way  to  all  her  better  emotions,  she  yet  yielded  to  the  idea  upper- 
most in  her  mind — an  impression  of  his  merely  desiring  to  carry 
his  point,  to  influence  her  actions,  and  to  prove  his  power,  irre- 
spective of  any  feeling  which  should  warrant  that  one  which  she 
vaguely  began  to  recognize  within  herself.  It  was  in  a  sort  of 
desperation  and  terror  at  this  half-discerned  self-surprisal,  that 
she  forced  herself  to  add  : — "  I  acknowledge  no  authority  but 
uncle's ;  his  claim  alone  I  admit  to  guide  my  conduct,  to  sway 
my  actions.  All  other  rights  and  claims  I  look  upon  as  imper- 
tinence, and — I  repeat — a  would-be  tyranny." 

"  Do  not  fear ;  neither  impertinence  nor  tyranny  shall  you 
know  from  me,  Kate." 

"  And  as  yonder  is  the  lawn,  perhaps  the  Iron  Cousin  will 
consider  I  have  complied  with  his  wish  of  accompanying  him 
through  the  grounds  far  enough.  Whereupon.  I  will  bid  him 
good  evening,  and  return  to  the  house;"  and  with  a  slight  curt- 
sey, she  turned  on  her  heel,  as  if  afraid  of  her  own  resolution, 
walking  back  at  a  rapid  pace,  and  shutting  her  ears  to  the  "  Fare- 
well, Kate  ! "  which  sounded  with  something  of  mournful  re 
proach  and  recall. 


THE  ICON  coosnr.  309 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

FEUMOR  WOUTHINGTON  continued  to  pace  up  and  down  the 
thickly-screened  shrubbery-walk,  after  Kate  Ireton  left  him. 

"  Why  endeavour  to  recall  her?"  he  thought.  "To  what 
end  seek  to  bring  her  back,  or  detain  her  with  me  ?  What 
should  I  say,  that  could  avail,  after  that  bitter,  bitter  word  of 
hers  'i  '  Tyranny  1 '  Does  she  indeed  feel  my  remonstrances 
oppressive — a  burden — a  tyranny  ?  When,  if  I  know  my  own 
heart,  they  spring  from  the  very  tenderness  of  my  regard  for  her 
excellence,  from  my  desire  to  see  it  perfect,  consummate,  worthy 
that  supremacy  of  beauty  which  is  hers ;  that  graciousncss  and 
Lr«>i 'ili  icss  of  aspect  which  bespeak  a  nature  capable  of  all  virtue, 
all  noble  feeling.  Yet,  tyranny  !  Tyranny  !  " 

The  word  seemed  to  hauut  him  in  its  cruellest  force  of  mean- 
ing, as  indicating  her  impression  of  his  conduct  towards  her. 
The  playful  temper  in  which  she  had  hitherto  borne  bus  most 
candid  speeches,  and  strongest  remonstrances,  even  when  she  bad 
spiritedly  retorted  upon  them,  showed  that  she  had  never 
really  resented  them.  But  now,  to  treat  them  as  tyranny,  as  se- 
verity, as  an  unwelcome  strain  of  authority  on  his  part,  cut  him 
to  the  quick.  Her  sharpest  and  most  petulant  behaviour  came 
upon  him  just  then  with  new  force,  with  a  painful  and  most  re- 
pulsive effect.  He  involuntarily  recollected  the  words  his  father 
had  o!  in  speaking  of  her, — that  hereafter,  her  want  of 

gentleness  and  deference  would  be  felt  to  be  an  unloveable,  un- 
feminine  characteristic, — a  moral  defect,  for  which  no  beauty  of 
face  or  intellect  could  compensate.  He  tried  to  palliate  the  re- 
membrance of  her  acrimony,  by  a  recollection  of  its  being  chiefly 
manner ;  and  by  recalling  instances  in  which  he  had  found  her 
better  than  her  words, — possessed  of  more  generosity,  more  sen- 
timent, than  they  seemed  to  denote ;  and  how  often,  while  Ji«r 
outward  demeanour  was  wayward  and  perverse,  she  had  in  fart 


310  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

been  full  of  right  feeling.  But  then  recurred  the  impression  of 
that  demeanour  in  its  most  ungracious,  most  unwinning  aspect 
how  disregardful,  how  ungentle,  it  too  frequently  made  her  ap- 
pear. Instances  of  its  startling  abrupt  turns ;  of  its  captious- 
ness,  its  imperiousness,  its  wirful  pertinacity,  its  apparent  care- 
lessness of  wounding,  presented  themselves  unbidden,  with  over- 
whelming effect ;  and  never  had  they  struck  him  as  so  intolerable. 
Till  now,  he  was  at  liberty  openly  to  animadvert  upon  them,  to 
express  his  little  liking  for  them,  to  meet  them  with  freedom  of 
expostulation.  But  now,  that  he  was  unexpectedly  forbidden 
from  either  playfully  admonishing  them,  or  earnestly  appealing 
against  them,  and  in  his  unwilling  self-avowal  that  they  were  dis- 
tasteful to  him,  they  became  suddenly  magnified  and  multiplied 
into  unbearable  bulk  and  amount.  So  long  as  they  might  be 
parried  by  retort,  and  opposed  by  candour  of  their  own  kind, 
they  had  seemed  but  sportive  humours,  light,  inconsequent  ca- 
prices, that  would  mellow  into  gentler  sprightliness,  as  her  bet- 
ter sense  had  time  to  assert  its  sway,  and  permitted  her  to  yield 
to  its  influence.  But  now  that  such  candour  was  prohibited,  now 
that  entire  frankness  was  to  be  "banished  from  between  them,  and 
resented  as  a  tyrannical  exercise  of  the  power  which  his  position 
with  her  gave  him,  he  felt  there  was  an  end  to  the  hope  he  had 
always  unconsciously  cherished,  that  he  should  eventually  suc- 
ceed in  winning  her  to  an  outward  gentleness  more  in  consonance 
with  that  which  he  believed  to  be  her  real  disposition.  With 
inexpressible  bitterness  of  soul,  he  owned  to  himself,  that  if  com- 
pelled to  relinquish  this  hope,  the  chief  charm  of  Kate's  charac- 
ter would  be  lost.  Were  he  once  convinced  that  she  indeed 
wanted  that  tenderness  of  feeling  which  he  had  ever  believed  she 
possessed,  in  spite  of  her  exterior  captiousness  and  unmindful- 
ness,  his  whole  delight  in  her  would  be  poisoned.  Then  the 
blunt  speech,  the  lively  rejoinder,  the  sarcastic,  taunting  repar- 
tee, instead  of  seeming  but  marks  of  a  youthful  animation  and 
heart-ease,  which  as  yet  had  never  known  reverse,  would  assume 
the  serious  colour  of  hardness,  indifference,  heartlessness.  The 
pang  with  which  Fermor  Worthington  asked  himself  whether 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  311 

these  were  in  reality  the  source  of  Kate  Ireton's  conduct  to  him, 
opened  his  eves  to  the  extent  of  his  regard  to  her,  and  to  the 
true  nature  of  that  regard. 

lie  covered  his  face  with  his  hands,  and,  in  anguish  of  heart, 
asked  himself  whether,  with  such  a  doubt  of  her  genuine  charac- 
ter, he  really  did  and  could  love  her.  Whether  he  could  wMi  a 
woman  of  such  blunt  manners,  and  ungracious  speech  and  de- 
meanour, to  become  his  wife.  And  then,  innumerable  instances 
of  her  peculiar  perverseness  and  roughness  of  retort  towards  him- 
self, pressed  upon  his  remembrance ;  and  he  vainly  tried  to  recall 
one  in  which  she  had  shown  distinctive  partiality  or  liking,  still 
less  preference  or  tenderness.  His  very  anxiety  of  desire  to  find 
such,  made  him  exaggerate,  distort,  and  misconstrue  their  unpro- 
pitious  meaning  ;  his  very  thirst  to  recollect  anything  that  could 
be  interpreted  into  loving  regard,  misled  him  as  to  their  signifi- 
cance. 80  far  from  being  able  to  discover  one  trace  of  what  he 
sought,  all  seemed  to  indicate  even  less  inclination,  less  kindli- 
ness, less  affection,  than  she  had  shown  towards  others. 

And  then  arose  within  him  the  strong,  invincible  feeling,  that 
unless  he  could  have  Kate's  love  in  pure,  undoubted,  perfect  gift, 
as  he  himself  could  have  given  her  his,  no  weaker  liking  would 
content  him.  Could  he  have  hoped  to  inspire  her  with  any  such 
passionate  regard  as  the  one  he  now  felt  within  his  own  heart 
towards  her,  he  might  have  yielded  himself  up  to  the  full  torrent 
of  its  empire,  and  besought  her  to  accept  his  faith,  his  trust,  his 
exclusive  reliance  upon  her  to  become  all  she  could  become,  and 
all  he  believed  she  would  become,  when  love  should  prompt  her 
nature  to  be  true  to  its  own  beautiful  best  self. 

But  since  110  such  hope  existed,  he  felt  even  proudly  thankful 
to  believe  himself  yet  capable  of  struggling  against  his  own  pm«- 
sion.  Jin  trird  to  rejoice  that  he  had  discovered  it  in  time  to  pre- 
vent its  ucijuiring  irresistible  force;  in  time  to  preserve  himself 
from  wreck  of  peace,  of  courage,  and  of  endeavour  to  effect  his  own 
cure.  He  sternly  determined  on  the  spot,  to  subject  himself  to 
the  ordeal  of  absence,  as  the  only  means  of  effectual  self-redemp- 
tion from  the  turture,  the  abject  moral  condition,  the  wasted 


312  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

gies,  the  lost  life,  consequent  upon  yielding  to  a  hopeless  passion. 
Love,  gentlest  regard  and  affection,  ineffable  tenderness,  he  knew 
he  must  .always  feel  for  Kate  Ireton.  But  the  miseries  of  una- 
vailing desire  to  see  her  his,  he  resolved  to  spare  himself,  by  at 
once  quenching  such  thoughts  from  out  his  heart. 

When  Fermor  Worthington  came  to  such  conclusions  as  these 
within  himself,  he  did  not  fail  to  act  up  to  their  spirit,  firmly, 
unflinchingly,  with  honest  effort,  and  truth  of  intention. 

He  had  just  closed  his  mental  conflict,  and  succeeded  in  as- 
suming the  outward  calm  which  decision  upon  a  future  course 
usually  brings,  when  the  light,  rapid  step  of  Cecil  Lascelles  sound- 
ed near,  and  in  another  moment  he  entered  the  shrubbery-path, 
where  Fermor  had  been  pacing  to  and  fro. 

"  Still  lingering  in  this  pleasant  spot !  "  he  said,  as  he  approach- 
ed. "  I  don't  wonder  at  that.  It  is  just  the  place  for  an  after- 
noon saunter.  I  slipped  away  from  the  oak-parlour,  to  enjoy  one 
myself.  I  left  that  cloying  sweetmeat,  Miss  White,  to  play  out 
her  game  of  '  pretty '  with  the  good  'Squire.  Upon  my  life,  Fer- 
mor, that  girl's  worse  than  a  whole  dinner  of  Gruava  jelly,  with 
strawberry-jam  for  breakfast,  tea  and  supper.  She's  an  insuffera- 
ble, suffocating  spoonful  of  treacle,  administered  day  after  day, 
and  hour  after  hour.  She  looks  like  a  walking  sugar-loaf,  with 
its  silly,  small,  white  head,  perking  out  from  the  blue  paper  cover." 

"  Did  you  meet "     Fermor  had  thought  himself  strong, 

but  the  first  utterance  of  her  name  was,  for  the  moment,  too  much 
for  him. 

"  Kate,  you  mean  ?  I  came  out  with  the  express  hope  of 
finding  her  still  in  the  garden.  But  I  missed  her  somehow.  Per- 
haps it  is  all  for  the  best,"  said  Cecil,  with  a  sudden  alteration  of 
voice,  which  he  tried  to  carry  off  with  a  constrained  laugh.  "  Had 
I  found  her  here,  I  might  not  have  been  able  to  maintain  my — to 
keep  my  resolution  not  to  speak  to  her  till — Worthington,"  he 
broke  out,  in  yet  another  tone,  "  I  must  relieve  my  heart  by  pour- 
ing it  out  to  you.  You  are  her  nearest  relation,  after  her  uncle, 
and  who  so  fit  to  be  frankly  spoken  to  ?  I'm  glad  I  found  you 
here ,  I'm  glad  you  were  not  gone.  I  want  to  have  your  good 
wishes." 


THE    IRON    COP  SIM.  313 

Fermor  tried  to  speak,  but  found  no  words  ;  he  felt  what  was 
coming.  He  turned,  and  plucked  a  sprig  of  bay  from  one  of  the 
nearest  trees. 

••  Your  beautiful,  glorious  cousin,— admirable,  charming,  en- 
chanting  Kate !  I  love  her,  Worthington,  beyond  words  to  tell, 
yet  it  is  a  joy  in  itself  to  put  the  rapturous  feeling  into  words — 
poor  as  they  are  to  express  it.  And  to  such  a  good  fellow  aa 
yourself,  too,  who  have  known  her  from  a  child,  and  know  how 
dear,  how  delightful  a  creature  she  is,  and  therefore  will  bear  my 
raptures  patiently,  and  listen  to  my  hopes  kindly  and  encourag- 
ingly, and  will  not  smile  or  marvel  at  the  former,  although  you 
may  deem  the  latter  wild,  rash,  too  far  presuming  upon  the  friend- 
ly favour,  the  sweet  familiarity  she  has  treated  me  with.  Yet, 
ah,  Worthington  !  could  you  have  seen  her  as  I  have,  gentle  to 
me,  when  curt  to  others ;  could  you  have  known  what  it  is  to  per- 
ceive  her  agreeing  with  me  when  differing  and  dissenting  from 
others;  consenting  to  my  wishes  and  proposals,  while  opposing 
those  of  Miss  White,  or  even  yourself,  her  cousin — her  Iron  Cous- 
in, as  she  playfully  styles  you — you  would  hardly  wonder  that  I 
:  ired  to  believe  this  portended  a  feeling — a  regard — a  pref- 
erence that  I  would  give  up  half  the  years  of  my  life  to  obtain.  I 
have  told  myself  over  and  over,  that  I  have  no  right  to  hope  such 
distinction — so  proud  and  surpassing  a  happiness  can  be  mine,  aa 
to  have  won  such  a  woman  as  Kate  Ireton  to  look  upon  me  with 
liking.  (By  heaven,  Worthington,  I  would  rather  have  her  bare 
liking,  than  any  other  woman's  fondest  love!)  Still,  had  you  be- 
held her  as  I  did,  the  other  night,  looking  with  artless,  innocent 
L'aii  ty  into  my  face,  and  laying  her  sweet  hand  upon  mine  in  af 
leetionate  womanly  appeal — though  the  action  had  a  purity  and 
grace  of  intimacy  right  modest  and  simple — you  would  understand 
that  I  could  scarce  refrain  from  indulging  maddest  hopes,  and 
beseeching  her  at  once  to  confirm  them." 

The  bay-leaves  were  crushed  within  the  palm  of  Fermor 
Worthington ;  but  he  bent  his  head  as  if  to  smell  them,  while  b« 
c-orapelled  himself  t«>  s-ay,  •  You  have  said  nothing  of  this,  then, 
to  her!  " 

1  > 


814  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  No  word,  as  yet.  I  determined  to  wait  until  my  prospecta 
were  decided,  and  I  knew  what  position  I  had  to  offer  her.  I  hare 
written  to  urge  my  mother  upon  this  point,  and  am  now  impatient- 
ly expecting  the  answer,  which  shall  enable  me  to  lay  my  heart 
open  to  Kate,  and  learn  from  her  whether  all  has  been  vain  chi- 
mera, and  daring,  presumptuous  folly.  When  I  think  of  her,  my 
own  hopes  seem  little  less  than  this  ;  when  I  think  of  myself,  of 
the  love  I  bear  her,  of  the  fond  worship,  the  adoring  admiration  T 
feel  within  my  heart  for  her,  I  cannot  help  gathering  courage 

No  deferred  time,  no  length  of  absence  would  dismay  me,  if " 

Cecil  walked  a  step  or  two,  in  eager,  rapid,  thought.  Then  he 
said,  "  Worthington,  if,  as  I  sometimes  believe,  my  future  path 
lies  at  a  distance,  wherein  I  am  to  achieve  the  fortune  and  station 
which  are  to  be  Kate's,  if  she  accept  my  love,  I  shall  not  dare  to 
ask  her  to  share  my  fate  at  once,  and  quit  the  uncle-father  who 
loves  her  so  dearly,  and  to  whom  she  is  so  tenderly  attached. 
Neither  should  I  think  it  right  to  subject  her  to  the  fatigues  and 
anxieties  of  such  a  career  as  mine  will  probably  be  for  the  next 
few  years.  But  if  she  will  consent  to  listen  to  me — if  I  find  that 
I  have  not  been  too  sanguine  in  believing  what  my  wishes  prompt 
me  to  hope,  I  shall  ask  her  to  abide  in  England  until  I  can  return 
to  her  with  such  rank  and  wealth  as  may  be  won  by  straining 
every  nerve,  and  devoting  every  power  of  mind  and  body,  every 
thought,  every  energy,  to  that  end.  This  interval  she  will  pass 
in  the  home  where  she  has  always  lived  happily,  indulged  and 
cherished ;  and  it  will  be  my  comfort  to  know  that  she  is  thus, 
with  her  two  esteemed  and  beloved  kinsmen  to  protect  and  guard 
her.  You  will  say,  I  am  indulging  in  strange  blissful  day-dreams, 
Worthington  ;  but  should  the  issue  crown  my  hopes  with  their  fulfil- 
ment, I  shall  confide  her  to  your  care  and  affection  with  the  same 
happy  faith  and  trust  as  if  you  were  her  brother.  For  all  she 
torments  and  rallies  you  so  unmercifully,  Fermor,  I  am  convinced 
she  regards  you  no  less  warmly  and  honouringly  than  if  you  were 
in  truth  her  brother.  But  I  am  wearying  you  with  my  lover's 
talk ;  only  your  own  patience  would  have  borne  with  it  so  long. 
Any  one's  stock  of  that  commodity  but  the  Iron  Cousin's  would 


THE    illON    COUSIN.  315 

have  be«n  exhausted  ere  this.  You  are  pale,  and  look  tired.  For 
give  me  my  egotistical  discourse,  though  you  will  excuse  it  for  the 
sake  of  her  who  has  called  it  forth — for  Kate's  sake." 

With  all  Fermor's  self-command,  he  could  not  control  the 
death-like  hue  that  spread  over  his  countenance,  and  blanched  his 
very  lips.  It  attracted,  at  length,  even  the  notice  of  his  unobser- 
vant companion,  engrossed  as  he  was  with  his  subject,  absorbed  as 
he  was  in  his  own  thoughts  and  hopes. 

"  You  are  ill,  Worthington,  or, — can  it  be,  that, "     And 

Cecil  suddenly  stopped,  as  if  struck  motionless.  Then  he  said,  in 
his  open,  straightforward  way,  "  Fermor,  tell  me,  have  you  ever — 
have  you  any  thoughts  yourself,  of  Kate,  as  a  wife  ?  " 

With  the  most  perfect  truth  could  he  answer  in  the  negatire, 
which  he  did,  in  few  words,  low,  but  firm  ;  quiet,  but  decisive.  In 
one  swift  reflection-flash  (though  its  spirit  had  actuated  him 
throughout  in  listening  to  Cecil),  he  felt  that  he  had  himself  re- 
nounced her  as  a  lover ;  and  in  honour,  in  conscience,  in  the  very 
depth  aiid  strength  of  his  disinterested  affection  for  her,  he  was 
bound  to  interfere  no  jot  with  that  love  which  another  man  bore 
her  so  unmisgivingly,  and  so  unreservedly. 

Cecil  Lascelles  grasped  his  hand  cordially,  as  he  said,  with  a 
frank  smile,  "  Nay,  I  know  not  what  could  possess  me,  to  suppose 
it  for  an  instant ;  I  must  have  been  a  fool ;  but,  you  know,  lovers 
are  famed  for  folly,  and  imagine  every  one  as  far  gone  in  their  own 
peculiar  infatuation  as  themaclves.  But  are  you  really  not  feel- 
ing well,  Worthington  ?  " 

"  It  is  nothing — it  will  pass  off;    the  air  will  do  me  good.     I 
shall  walk  slowly  on ;  and  by  the  time  I  reach  home,  shall  be  quite 
If." 

And  Fermor  turned  to  cross  the  lawn,  while  Cecil  went  back 
to  the  Hall. 


That  ni-rht,  after  Dawson  had  undressed  her  young  lady-mis- 
treas  and  n-tire«l,  there  carno  a  knock  At  Alicia  White's  room 
door. 


316  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  Come  in,"  said  she. 

Kate  Ireton  entered  and  walked  straight  towards  her. 

"  Alicia,  I  am  sorry  for  my  rudeness  to-day.  Will  you  accept 
my  apology  ?  " 

"  La  !  Kate,  dear !  of  course.  I'm  sure  I  quite  pardoned  you 
at  the  time.  I'ts  only  our  duty  to  forgive,  you  know.  But  what 
a  strange  girl  you  are,  coming  here  in  your  long  white  dressing- 
gown,  looking  like  a  spectre,  or  as  if  you  had  seen  one,  your  eyes 
are  so  unsettled,  and  your  cheeks  so  flushed.  What's  the  matter 
with  you  ?  " 

"  Nothing ;  I  was  restless  ;  I  shall  be  better  now." 

"  What  a  curious  creature  you  are,  Kate,  dear.  I  can't  make 
you  out ;  you're  all  crabbed  and  cross-grained  with  one,  for  no 
earthly  reason,  at  one  time ;  and  at  another,  take  it  into  your 
head  to  come  and  ask  pardon  like  a  good  little  girl.  But  it's 
very  amiable  and  right-minded  in  you ;  and  I'm  sure  I  give  you 
credit  for  your  meekness,  which  is  far  more  becoming  and  lady- 
like, depend  upon  it,  than  all  the  pettish  airs  you  can  put  on." 

"  I  never  put  on  any  airs,  whether  of  pettishness  or  meek- 
ness ;  I  give  way  to  the  one,  because  it  is  my  way ;  and  I  came 
and  offered  an  apology,  because — because — I  could  not  rest  until 
I  had  done  so." 

"  Only  think  of  you,  Kate,  you,  being  anxious  to  make  an 
apology  !  Why,  I  should  as  soon  have  dreamed  of  an  empress 
desiring  to  apologize  for  sending  somebody  to  Siberia.  Well, 
you  really  are  an  odd  girl !  " 

"  I  was  anxious  to  make  this  apology,  because  I  felt  I  should 
not  sleep  if  I  didn't,  that's  all.  Thank  you  for  telling  me  you 
accept  it.  Alicia.  Good  night." 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

ALTHOUGH  Kate  Ireton  slept  that  night,  it  was  the  sort  of  sleep 
that  brings  little  refreshment.  Her  eyes  felt  as  if  they  had  not 
closed  ;  she  dressed  like  one  in  a  dream  ;  and  there  was  some- 


THE   IKON    COUSIN.  3P 

thing  rankling  at  her  heart  which  she  thought  wrath,  jot  which 
smote  every  now  and  then  upon,  her  with  a  senso-of  dread,  of  dis- 
couragement, of  vague  but  deep  fear. 

She  bravely  strove  against  it,  and  kept  it  at  bay ;  but  still  it 
wns  there,  close  at  hand,  like  some  haunting  shadow  of  impend- 
ing e.vil. 

She  rallied  all  her  spirit,  and  descended  to  the  breakfast- 
room,  looking  only  the  more  bright  and  animated,  for  the  strug- 
gle within  her,  which  brought  a  heightened  colour  to  her  cheek, 
:i  more  lustrous  sparkle  to  her  eye. 

With  cheerful  words  to  her  uncle,  a  gay  jest  with  Cecil,  and 
:i  sprightly  good  morning  to  Alicia,  she  seated  herself  at  the 
table,  and  began  to  pour  out  the  'Squire's  coffee,  to  butter  his 
dry  toast,  and  place  it  ready  at  his  elbow,  for  him  to  eat  while 
he  looked  into  the  newspaper,  which  he  generally  did  the  first 
thing. 

But  the  deep  dull  pain  seized  her  again,  as  she  caught  sight 
of  the  letter-bag  lying  there.  She  knew  her  uncle  often  left  the 
examination  of  his  letters  until  he  had  finished  his  paper ;  and 
now,  he  went  on  reading  paragraph  after  paragraph,  and  com- 
menting on  the  news  to  Cecil,  who  seemed  himself  pre  occupied 
and  uneasy,  as  he  cast  occasional  glances  towards  the  post-bag, 
though  apparently  unwilling  to  express  his  eagerness  and  inter- 
rupt the  'Squire. 

K rite's  feet  and  hands  became  deadly  cold,  while  her  heart 
throbbed,  and  her  temples  burned.  She  saw  as  through  a  mist, 
and  sat  in  a  kind  of  impatient  patience,  while  her  uncle  com- 
posedly scanned  his  paper  from  column  to  column,  and  skimmed 
and  hummed  the  scraps  of  intelligence  in  a  way  that  distracted 
her.  Each  time  she  dared  to  glance  towards  the  letters  that  lay 
in  tin1  bag  near  him,  she  felt  a  sickening,  feverish  shiver  creep 
over  her.  She  wondered  he  could  delay  so  long,  y«  t  dreaded  the 
moment  when  he  should  touch  them. 

It  came  ;  and  as  the  'Squire  sorted  them  out,  passing  to  each 
person  theirs,  she  saw  one  directed  to  himself — as  she  had  felt 
•he  should — in  Pcrmor  Worthington's  hand-writing. 


818  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

The  blood  flew  to  her  heart,  while  a  faint,  ice-cold  cloud  caiu« 
over  her  face.  -By  a  resolute  effort,  she  held  off  the  overpower- 
ing sensation,  and  recovered  herself.  Then  she  heard  (with  that 
curious  power  of  hearing  which  gives  to  us  the  echo  and  meaning 
of  words  already  uttered,  but  which,  at  the  moment  of  their  ut- 
terance fail  to  convey  sound  or  sense  to  absence  of  mind)  that 
her  uncle  had  been  saying,  "  Alicia,  my  dear,  there's  a  dainty 
taper  note  for  you ;  and  Cecil,  my  boy,  there's  a  thick  packet  for 

you — quite  a  volume  ;  and  here's let  me  see — who  can  this 

be  from  ?  Not  come  by  post,  but  by  hand.  Oh,  :  your  affection- 
ate friend  and  kinsman,  Fermor  Worthington.'  What  can  he 
have  to  write  about,  I  wonder  ?  " 

Cecil  Lascelles  went  over  to  the  window-recess  with  his 
voluminous  letter,  in  the  contents  of  which  he  was  soon  buried ; 
while  Alicia  exclaimed,  "  Mamma  writes  me  word  that  my  kind 
godmother,  Lady  Niggle,  is  going  to  spend  the  autumn  at  Baden- 
Baden,  and  has  invited  me  to  accompany  her.  Wo'n't  that  be  a 
delightiul  trip,  Kate,  dear  ?  " 

"  Very,"  answered  Kate,  mechanically,  with  her  eyes  fixed 
upon  her  uncle's  face. 

"  So,  so  !  he's  off  suddenly ;  but  he's  perhaps  right,"  said 
the  'Squire.  "  I  hate  farewells  and  leave-takings,  they're  only 
pain  and  discomfort ;  and  he  bade  us  good-bye  yesterday.  He 
writes  word  so,  here,  saying  that  he  has  for  some  time  intended 
this  journey,  which  is  to  see  after  some  property  of  his  father's 
on  the  continent ;  and  that  circumstances  have  determined  him 
to  go  there  without  delay.  He  leaves  Worthington  Court  this 
morning  for  London,  on  his  way  to  Ostend,  and  so  by  the  Rhine, 
to  the  south  of  Q-errnany." 

"  That's  charming  !  "  cried  Alicia  White.  "  We  may  pro- 
bably meet  Mr.  Worthington  in  the  course  of  our  travels.  Kate, 
dear,"  she  added,  calling  after  Kate  Ireton  who  was  crossing 
the  room  with  guardedly  unwavering  step,  and  making  towards 
the  door  by  strained  control  over  nerve  and  limb,  "  if  you  are 
going  to  the  housekeeper's  room,  will  you  send  word  to  Dawson 
to  pack  up  immediately  ?  Mamma  wishes  me  to  return  homo 


TIIE    IRON    COUSIN.  313 

without  delay.     My  dear  'Squire,  I  am  shocked  to  run  away  sc 
unceremoniously,  but  you  see  how  the  case  stands,  and  I " 

The  door  closed  behind  Kate  Ireton,  in  the  midst  of  Mis* 
White's  speech.  Once  outside  the  room,  Kate  paused,  ami 
allowed  herself  to  take  breath.  It  came  in  gasps,  in  sobs,  with 
shudders  over  all  her  frame,  and  sharp  inward  throes,  that  shook 
her  from  head  to  foot.  After  this  one  moment's  pause,  she  en 
deavourcd  to  walk  stedfastly  on ;  but  the  strong  effort  had  been 
relaxed,  the  strict  tension  had  been  withdrawn — though  for  so 
short  a  space — and  she  felt  that  she  should  totter  if  she  attempted 
to  move.  Nevertheless,  she  was  desperately  going  to  stumble 
onward,  when  she  saw  Matty  come  into  the  hall.  She  beckoned 
to  her,  caught  her  arm,  and  motioned  to  be  led  up  stairs. 

The  nurse  poured  out  question  upon  question  as  to  what 
could  ail  her  darling. 

"  Hush  !  Don't  speak — don't  talk  to  me  !  Get  mo  to  my 
own  ruom,'!  Kate  contrived  to  say,  in  a  yoice  that  sounded  to 
luTM-lf  hoarse,  and  strange,  and  unlike  her  own. 

*'  Set  the  window  open — wide  open  ;  and  go  !  " 

••My   darling   Miss   Kate,  my "  began  the  bewildered 

Matty. 

"  Be  still ;  be  quiet !     Go,  once  more  !     Go  away  1 " 

The  nurse  left  her,  but  went  no  farther  than  the  landing, 
where  she  stood  close  to  the  door,  crying  silently,  and  listening 
for  any  sound  or  token  by  which  she  could  tell  how  her  young 
mi> tress  was. 

Kate  sat  like  a  statue,  and  almost  as  pale ;  her  eyes  fixed  on 
her  hands  firmly  clenched,  her  teeth  set  fast  Suddenly,  a 
hot  rush  of  crimson  darted  over  her  white  face,  and  sho  exclaimed, 
passionately  :  "  It  cannot  be  that  I — it  cannot,  shall  not  be ! ' 
Then  she  got  up,  walked  to  the  washing  stand,  poured  herself  out 
a  tumbler  of  water,  and  drank  it  at  a  draught ;  plunged  her  hands 
int..  a  cold  brimming  basin,  and  plentcously  laved  h.  I 
throat.  Next,  she  went  to  the  toilette-table,  looked  straight  into 
the  glass,  an-1  smm.th.'.l  ln-r  hair  with  care  and  exoctnew* ;  and. 
after  that,  she  walked  steadily  to  the  door,  and  opened  it  to  go 
down  stairs. 


520  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

"  Why,  Matty,  what  do  you  do  here  ?  I  told  you  to  leave 
me.  Why  arc  you  still  loitering  near  ?  I  don't  choose  to 
be  disobeyed.  When  I  tell  you  to  do  a  thing,  I  expect  you  to 
do  it." 

u  My  darling  Miss  Kate,  you're  not  yourself  this  morning,  or 
you  could't  speak  so  shortly  to  your  poor  old  Mattykin." 

"  Matty,  I  won't  be  watched ;  when  I  say  I  want  to  be  alone, 
I  mean  you  to  leave  me  to  myself,  and  not  to  stay  hanging  about, 
noticing  me,  and  attending  to  me,  whether  I  will  or  no.  Do  you 
mind  ?  I  shall  be  really  angry  if  this  happen  again." 

"  It  sha'n't,  my  darling ;  it  sha'n't,  indeed,"  cried  Matty. 

On  her  return  to  the  breakfast  room,  Kate  was  received  by 
her  uncle's  exclamation  :  "  Here  is  news,  indeed,  Kate  !  Cecil's 
letter  summons  him  from  us  immediately.  He  is  going  back  to 
India." 

"  To  India  !  "  she  exclaimed.  "  But  not  immediately  ?  "  she 
said,  going  up  to  Cecil  Lascelles,  with  tears  springing  in  her  eyes 
— tears  which  deeper  emotion  had  not  forced  from  her,  but  which 
the  suddenness  of  the  tidings,  joined  to  her  previous  repressed 
excitement,  called  forth.  "  We  are  not  to  lose  you  directly  ? 
You  are  surely  not  obliged  to  quit  England,  at  once  ?  " 

"  I  fear  I  must,"  said  Cecil,  looking  deeply  distressed,  and  in 
agitation  which  he  scarcely  attempted  to  conceal.  "  My  mother's 
letter  is  urgent ;  the  one  she  encloses  from  my  uncle  takes  for 
granted  that  I  will  use  no  delay.  I  have  sent  down  to  the  vil- 
lage to  take  my  place  by  to-night's  mail  which  passes  through,  for 
the  north." 

He  spoke  as  if  signing  his  own  death-warrant — as  if  sub- 
scribing to  a  fatal  necessity,  from  which  he  felt  there  was  no 
escape. 

"  I  have  for  some  time  foreseen  this  must  come,"  he  said, 
with  as  smiling  an  air  as  he  could  assume  ;  "  but  I  have  a  knack 
of  putting  off  the  pain  of  disagreeables  until  they  actually  arrive, 
and  the  pain  must  be  borne.  This,  perhaps,  increases  its  acute- 
ness  ,  but  I  am  spared  its  lingering  infliction.  ]Jy  never  antici- 
pating inevitable  future  miseries,  I  avoid  their  embittering  present 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  321 

pleasures,  although  I  may  be  only  adding  venom  to  the  sting 
when  it  comes.  However,  every  one  to  his  own  peculiar  philoso- 
phy, and  deferring  unhappiness  to  the  last  possible  moment 
is  mine.  So,  what  say  you,  Kate,  to  a  ride  or  a  walk  this  fine 
morning  ?  " 

"  If  uncle  be  inclined,  with  all  my  heart,"  answered  she; 
"  though,  I  fear,  he  is  hardly  yet  equal  to  going  out,  either  on 
foot,  or  on  horseback,  for  a  day  or  two  yet  What  do  you  think, 
uncle  ?  How  do  you  feel  ?  What  says  the  rheumatism  ?  " 

••  Why,  really,  for  the  pake  of  a  gallop  with  Cecil  for  the  last 
time,  I  think  I  must  try  my  best,"  said  the  'Squire.  "  I'll  order 
the  horses,  and  we  can  accompany  Alicia  a  mile  or  two  on  her 
way.  Her  father  has  sent  the  carriage  for  her,  and  she  is  now 
gone  to  put  on  her  bonnet  and  travelling  gear." 

She  came  in,  soon  after,  all  smiles  and  pretty  speeches;  full 
of  lively  regrets  at  leaving,  and  amiable  acknowledgments  of  the 
agreeable  time  she  had  spent  with  the  dear  'Squire,  and  dear 
.  at  dear,  delightful  Heathcotc  Hall. 

"  And  if  I  should  meet  Mr.  Worthington  abroad,  Kate,  dear, 
I'll  be  sure  to  give  him  your  love,  and  tell  him " 

"  Do  no  such  thing,  if  you  please,"  said  Kate,  hotly  ;  "  I'll 
have  no  sweet  messages  taken  to  the  Iron  Cousin ;  who  de- 
s  none,  for  his  abrupt  departure  from  us." 

"  I'll  tell  him  you're  affronted  with  his  unceremonious  beba 
viour,  then,  shall  I?" 

"  Tell  him  nothing  from  me.  I'm  quite  equal  to  telling  him 
my  own  bluffnesses,"  said  Kate,  with  her  short  laugh. 

"  That  you  are,  indeed,  Kate,  dear.  Take  my  advice,  and 
treat  him  a  little  better  when  he  comes  back  You  really  are 
too  rough  with  him  sometimes.  Be  advised  by  me,  Kate, 
dear." 

'•  I  am  not  fond  of  being  advised  by  any  one,"  she  answered. 
'  I  halt'  advice.  It  shows  that  those  who  give  it  think  tbem- 
•elves  wiser  and  better  than  the  simpleton,  or  ill-behaved  mba, 
•hey  arc  favouring  with  their  unasked  remarks." 

«  Oli.  I'm  Mire,  Kate,  dear,  I  could  never  dream  for  a  mo- 
14* 


522  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

ment  of  considering  myself  wiser  and  better  than  you— -or  than 
any  one  !  "  said  Miss  White.  "  I  hope  I  know  better  what  be- 
longs to  proper  modesty  and  humility." 

"  '  Than  any  one  ! '  You  think  it  proper,  then,  to  hold  your 
self  less  wise  than  a  fool — less  good  than  a  thief  or  a  murderer  ?" 
was  the  answer. 

"  Now,  really,  Kate,  dear,  if  you're  going  to  turn  upon  mo 
with  any  of  your  sharp  repartees,  I  mast  run  away ;  tor  my  poor 
little  head  has  no  chance  of  finding  a  clever  one  in  return." 

"  Let  me  help  you  to  make  good  your  retreat,  Miss  White  ; 
Buffer  me  to  lead  you  to  the  carriage,"  said  Cecil  Lascellcs. 


The  ride  was  rather  a  sad  one,  in  spite  of  the  three  friends 
endeavour  to  enjoy  it  cheerfully  and  pleasantly.  They  felt  it 
was  the  last  day  of  an  intercourse  and  consociation  which  had  been 
a  very  happy  one  to  them  all. 

The  good  'Squire  tried  to  speak  encouragingly  and  hopefully 
of  the  new  life  Cecil  was  about  to  commence.  He,  in  his  turn, 
endeavoured  to  express  the  same  trust  and  energetic  expectancy 
in  looking  forward  to  its  active  .duties ;  declaring  that  he  had 
long  felt  he  ought  to  have  a  profession  to  follow,  and  was  well 
contented  one  should  be  at  length  appointed  for  him,  in  which  he 
might  work,  and  win  his  way  to  honourable  distinction.  He 
smilingly  owned  that  his  natural  disposition  to  make  the  most 
of  the  present,  instead  of  considering  how  to  make  the  most 
and  the  best  of  the  future,  would  probably  have  kept  him  still  an 
idle  do  nothing,  had  he  not  been  thus  forced  into  more  befitting 
exertion ;  and  that,  therefore,  he  ought  to  rejoice  instead  of  re- 
pine, at  the  opening  now  afforded.  And  then  Cecil  sighed,  and 
seemed  about  to  add  something  more ;  but,  true  to  his  instinct 
of  avoiding  unwelcome  subjects,  he  turned  his  speech  to  loving 
admiration  of  Heathcote  woods  and  park,  and  to  affectionate  as- 
surance of  how  often  their  cool,  green  beauty  would  be  present 
to  his  imagination,  as  one  of  his  happiest  remembrances,  amid  the 
burning  scenes  of  India. 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  323 

"  And  each  time  uncle  and  I  come  out  to  enjoy  their  refresh- 
ment, we  shall  wish  we  could  convey  some  of  it  to  you  by  a 
breath  ;  or  waft  you  hither,  Cecil,  to  partake  of  it  with  us,"  said 
Kate. 

"  Every  breath  of  Kate's  brings  balm  and  comfort,"  said  Ce- 
cil, with  a  passionate  vehemence  he  seemed  unable  to  restrain; 
"  kindness,  and  affectionate  goodness,  and  gentle  consolation, 
breathe  in  her  every  word.  She  knows  well  how  to  make  even 
parting  less  painful  to  her  friends." 

"  The  first  time  my  words  have  ever  had  so  healing  a  quality 
attributed  to  them,"  laughed  she ;  "  they  have  generally  been  sup- 
posed to  contain  nothing  but  venomous  goading  point,  and  fanged 
malice." 

"  The  hardest  judge  would  acquit  her  of  malice,"  rejoined  he. 
"  Playful  retort,  sportive  reprisal — like  harmless  summer  light- 
ning, which  but  serves  to  illumine  our  path  with  its  brightness 
and  beauty." 

"  It  is  almost  a  pity  Alicia  is  not  here,  Cecil,  to  make  you  a 
pretty  speech  in  return  for  yours.  It  deserves  requital  in  kind, 
and,  alas  !  I've  none  such  in  all  my  vocabulary." 

•  i'erhaps,  '  almost  a  pity,'  but  not  quite,"  said  the  'Squire. 
"  I  think  we  do  very  well  without  her.  She's  a  very  excellent, 
good  girl,  of  course;  and  being  related  to  us,  though  distantly, 
\vi •><•  bound  to  show  her  all  the  kindness  and  attention  we  can. 
Still,  I  dare  say,  Cecil  will  be  content  to  forego  her  pretty  speeches, 
for  the  sake  of  enjoying  this  day  quietly  to  ourselves,  as  we  did 
so  many  in  Italy  together." 

••  .More  than  content, — most  delighted  !  "  said  Cecil  "  Tho 
addition  of  that  lump  of  sugar  would  have  spoiled  all.  Thank 
H'-aven,  it's  melted  away,  vanished,  dissolved,  disappeared ! " 

"  None  left !  All  gone !  as  nurse  Matty  used  to  say  to  me, 
when  I  was  a  naughty  child,  and  would  cry  for  more,"  said 
Kate-. 

"  It  will  be  our  piteous  phrase  to-morrow,  Kate,  when  we 
arc  left  alum;  together.  All  our  friends  swept  off  at  once  ! 
Katlur  hard  upon  u.-,  isn't  it?  We  shall  find  it  difficult  t» 
boar. '' 


324  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  We'll  console  each  other,  uncle.     You  shall   talk  as  cheer 
fully  as  you  can,  to  me  ;  and  I'll  sing, — if  I  can, — to  ytu." 


The  afternoon  seemed  to  creep  heavily  by,  and  yet  the  hours 
to  fly.  Cecil  sat  with  Kate  and  her  uncle  in  the  oak  parlour,  try- 
ing to  converse,  but  lapsing  into  frequent  silence  ;  endeavouring 
to  maintain  an  equable  strain,  but  perpetually  faltering  off  into 
absent  reverie  and  thoughtfulncss. 

The  'Squire,  tired  with  his  morning's  exertion,  drowsily  reclin 
ed  in  his  arm-chair,  with  his  eyes  closed. 

"  Uncle  mine,  don't  go  to  sleep  in  that  draught  of  air." 

"  Don't  you  torment  me,  you  jade." 

"  I  torment  you,  because  I  want  to  have  you  quite  comfort- 
able," said  she.  "  That's  mostly  the  reason  why  women  torment 
men/' 

"  A  wifely  kind  of  plea  !  You  are  worse  than  a  wife  to  me, 
Kate." 

"  That  I  have  long  been.  And  mean  to  continue  your  rib- 
thorn  to  the  end  of  our  days  !  "  she  said,  as  she  arranged  a  cam- 
bric handkerchief  round  his  head,  and  drew  down  the  window  at 
his  back,  and  tenderly  kissed  him,  as  she  bent  over  him,  and 
watched  him  fall  into  quiet  slumber. 

"  Kate  !  "  said  the  voice  of  Cecil  Lascellea. 

She  looked  up. 

"  Kate,  will  you  come  into  the  rose-walk  with  me  ?  It  is 
near  enough  for  us  to  see,  should  the  'Squire  wake  and  need 
you." 

They  stepped  through  the  glass-door  leading  into  the  garden, 
and  closed  it  noiselessly  behind  them. 

This  rose-walk  was  a  beautiful  spot.  It  was  clustered  thick 
with  bushes  of  the  flower  which  had  given  it  its  name.  White 
rose,  yellow  rose,  glowing  damask,  queenly  pink,  delicate  China 
and  Provence,  rich  moss,  and  luxuriant  ever-beautiful,  though 
homely  cabbage-rose,  were  all  here  in  their  delicious  per 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  tftt 

fumed  piofu.)ion.  filling  the  air  with  loveliness  of  shape,  colour 
and  scent. 

Cecil  and  Kate  lingered  up  and  down,  amid  the  soft,  westerly 
liirlit  and  warmth,  that  shed  its  evening  blandness  upon  the  sweet 
place.  At  each  turn,  she.  gazed  in  through  the  glass-door,  to 
satisfy  her  eyes  with  the  sight  of  that  placid,  sleeping  figure; 
while,  according  loan  old  habit  of  theirs,  she  and  her  companion 
remained  enjoying,  in  perfect  silence,  the  scene  in  which  they 
were. 

After  a  time,  she  softly  made  playful  allusion  to  this  way 
they  had,  of  contentedly  making  a  dual  solitude  by  means  of  a 
dumb  sympathy. 

"  A  solitude  of  two,  peoples  their  spot  of  earth  with  the  joys 
of  Paradise  !  "  said  Cecil.  "  Why  cannot  such  an  hour  as  this 
endure  for  ever  ?  Kate,  I  could  be  content  that  it  should  be  the 
last  of  my  life, — unless  you  will  share  that  life,  and  make  all  its 
coming  years  as  full  of  joy  as  this  one  evening  hour.  The 
knowledge  that  I  possess  your  love,  as  you  possess  mine, 
would  bear  me  through  any  period  of  absence — make  any  toil 
t.-a>y." 

"  Cecil !  "  exclaimed  Kate  in  breathless  amazement 

"  Kate,  is  it  possible  you  have  not  seen  how  dearly,  how 
madly  I  worship  you  ?  Is  it  possible  you  have  not  guessed  mj 
love,  read  it  in  my  eyes,  in  my  every  word,  though  they  maj 
never  have  dared  to  express  it  in  direct  terms?  I  forced  myself 
it  is  true,  to  refrain  from  speech,  until  I  could  speak  all  I  wished . 
but  it  cannot  be,  Kate,  that  you  have  never  perceived  how  pas- 
sionately you  are  beloved?  " 

No  hint,  no  dream  of  suspicion,  ever  crossed  my  mind  of 
this  most  unhappy  truth,"  she  said  sorrowfully.  "  I  believed 
that  you  loved  me,  as  I  love  you,  simply,  affectionately,  truly  ; 

out  as  friends,  not "  her  voice  faltered  ;  she  could  not  finish 

the  sentence. 

"  '  Unhappy  truth  ! '  ''  echoed  Cecil.  "  Does  it  grieve  you, 
then,  to  fiud  i  luvV  \.  i.  K 

«  Deepl  loving  me  as  you  say  yo«  love ; 


326  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

foi  I  feel  that  such  love  it  is  not  in  my  power  to  give  you  in  re 
turn.     And  you  should  not  love  in  vain,  Cecil." 

"  Kate,  you  wound  me  most,  even  while  you  speak  most 
gently.  Oh,  why  did  you  show  me  so  much  gentleness, — why, 
when  you  were  rough  with  others,  wejre  you  kind  and  yielding  to 
me  ?  It  was  that  which  lured  me  on  to  hope." 

"  Was  I  gentler  to  you  than  to  others,  Cecil  ? :)  said  Kate, 
with  a  deep  flush  mounting  into  her  face ;  "  that  was  because 
I > 

She  stopped  suddenly. 

"  Because  you  cared  for  me  less,  you  would  iay ;  because 
you  did  not  care  for  me  sufficiently  to  cross  and  oppose  me. 
You  could  be  gentle  and  affectionate  to  me,  because  your  love 
for  me  was  gentle  and  kindly;  had  it  been  more — had  it  been 
love,  love  itself,  the  passionate  feeling  that  is  burning  here  at 
my  heart  for  you,  Kate,  you  would  have  shown  me  less  favour. 
Your  very  tenderness  would  have  taught  you  to  hide  its  sweet 
strength  beneath  pretended  indifference.  Ah,  why  was  I,  oil  my 
part,  so  slow  to  read  the  '  unhappy  truth  ?  ' 

He  paused,  in  great  agitation;  while  she  stood  by  his  side, 
quite  still,  but  trembling  excessively. 

"  Kate,"  he  said,  at  length,  "  I  understand  now  why  you 
treated  me  with  such  gentle,  open  affection  ;  you  loved  me  as  a 
friend — a  brother.  I  see  now  why  you  cannot  give  me  the  love 
I  ask ;  it  is  because  it  is  already ' ' 

"  Hush  !  "  said  Kate,  laying  her  hand  upon  his  arm,  while 
the  flush  heightened  to  vivid  scarlet ;  "  do  not  speak  it,  Cecil ! 
Do  not  say  you  see  it !  I  will  not  see  it, — own  it,  to  myself.  It 
is  not  so.  It  cannot  be.  Dear  Cecil,  do  not  think  it !  " 

As  Kate  fixed  her  pleading  eyes  upon  his,  and  poured  forth 
her  eager,  imploring  entreaty,  Cecil,  in  his  profound  concern  for 
her,  almost  lost  the  present  sense  of  his  own  grief.  He  thought 
of  Fermor's  calm  denial  of  entertaining  any  thoughts  of  Kate 
Ireton  as  a  wife ;  and  he  even  writhed  to  think  of  such  a  woman's 
love  being  given  to  one  by  whom  it  was  neither  sought  noi 
returned. 


THI:  IRON  COUSIN.  3^7 

"  Kate,'  he  said,  "  if  you  have  not  bestowed  your  love,  grant 
me  your  liking,  and  it  shall  suffice ;  give  me  but  such  gentle, 
womanly  regard,  as  you  have  shown  all  along,  and  it  will  content 
me.  I  would  rather  have  your  affectionate  friendship,  than  the 
most  passionate  devotion  from  another.  Kate,  tell  me  you  will 
be  but  the  same  to  me  you  have  hitherto  been,  with  the  hope  of 
one  day  calling  you  mine,  and  I  will  think  no  time  too  long  to 
wait ;  no  probation  too  severe.  I  do  not  ask  you  to  leave  your 
home — to  forsake  your  uncle.  Remain  here ;  be  to  him  still  a 
daughter.  But  promise  to  be  my  wife,  when  I  return  with 
wealth  to  share  with  you  both,  in  one  future  house  and  home 
together  ever  after." 

"  You  wring  my  heart,  Cecil.     I  cannot;  I  cannot." 

"  Then  you  do "  he  was  bursting  forth  impetuously  ; 

when  Kate  clasped  her  hands  with  pathetic  earnestness,  and  again 
her  eyes  fastened  upon  his  face  their  beseeching  look. 

He  could  not  resist  this  mute  appeal,  and  forbore. 

"  Cecil,"  she  said,  "  it  is  out  of  the  very  purity  and  truth  of 
my  regard  for  you,  that  I  will  not  make  you  this  promise.  Lov- 
ing you  as  I  do, — affectionately,  sincerely,  as  iny  dear  friend  and 
brother, — I  will  not  promise  to  become  your  wife,  knowing  I  can 
never  bring  you  the  free,  full  love,  a  wife  should  bring ;  above 
all,  to  one  whose  own  love  is  so  generous  and  devoted.  Such 
faith  as  yours,  Cecil,  demands  unreserved  return.  Such  a  heart, 
so  lavishly,  so  trustingly  given,  should  have  the  heart  it  coveta, 
undividedly  and  exclusively  yielded,  as  alone  worthy  to  requite 
so  rich  a  treasure.  Esteeming  you,  valuing  you,  as  I  do,  Cecil, 
I  will  never  consent  that  your  genuine,  earnest,  true  love,  shall 
have  other  than  love  itself  to  meet  it.  Neither  you  nor  I, 
Cecil,  could  be  contented  with  less  than  perfect  mutual  love 
in  marriage.  Between  us  two,  let  there  be  perfect  love  of  ita 

kind." 

"  Did  I  not  say  truly,  that  Kate  knows  how  to  make  pain  it 
n.-lf  loM  Painful  to  those  she  regards?  "  said  Cecil,  with  a  smile 
half  sail,  half  tcii.icr.     "  That  she  does  regard  me  with  »<!'• 
»tc    liking.    1     li:«v«-    her    <>\vn    ;oMit!r    a  :»i"l    tin-    |.n>ii.) 


328  THE    IRON    COUSIN 

consciousness  of  this  shall  console  me  for  being  forbidden  to  hop* 
it  ever  can  be  more  than  liking.  Kate,  in  addition  to  all  you? 
benign,  womanly  treatment  of  me  this  last  memorable  evening — 
grant  me — do  not  refuse  me " 

He  held  her  hand  against  his  cheek,  to  his  lips,  to  his  eyes, 
and  strained  it  upon  his  heart. 

"  A  friend, — a  sister,  will  not  be  content  with  less  than  an  eni- 
Drace,  in  bidding  farewell  to  one  she  holds  so  dear,"  said  Kate,  in 
her  own  simple,  ingenuous  way,  that  had  the  confiding  affection- 
ateness  of  a  child,  with  the  graceful  dignity  of  womanhood. 

Cecil  Lascelles  folded  her  in  his  arms,  with  a  fervent,  deer> 
breathed  "  God  for  ever  bless  you,  Kate  !  "  and  the  next  instant 
hurried  from  her. 


CHAPTER   XXXVI. 

IT  was  touching  to  see  how  zealously,  how  sedulously,  Kate  Ire- 
ton  dedicated  herself  to  her  uncle's  amusement,  that  he  should  not 
feel  dull  and  spiritless  on  the  departure  of  those  whose  presence 
had  so  lately  made  Heathcote  Hall  cheerly  and  gay.  Her  ingenu- 
ity in  devising  means  of  preventing  his  perceiving  the  lack  of  so- 
ciety, her  assiduous  watchfulness  to  keep  him  from  feeling  at  a 
loss  for  conversation,  her  lively  endeavour,  by  her  own  alacrity  and 
sprightliness,  to  supply  the  place  of  more  numerous  talkers,  was 
very  beautifnl  to  behold  in  its  unselfishness,  and  instinct  of  loving 
attachment. 

It  was  the  more  so,  from  her  having  her  own  secret  load  of 
heart-oppression  to  bear,  at  the  very  time  she  made  this  effort  at 
extra  cheerfulness  and  animation.  But  (while  still  sternly  refus- 
ing— in  her  maidenly  pride  and  innate  reticence  of  modesty — to 
admit  the  belief  that  she  could  have  bestowed  her  love  unsought) 
she  set  a  strict  guard  upon  her  own  feelings,  that  they  should  deny 
themselves  the  indulgence  of  brooding  over  one  particular  subject, 
not  only  for  self-respect's  sake,  in  the  sincere  intention  of  regain- 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  329 

ing  serenity  of  spirit ;  but  from  a  resolve  that  nothing  should  be 
Buffered  to  interfere  with  her  entire  devotion  to  her  uncle's  com' 
fort  and  happiness. 

She  succeeded  so  well,  that  never  had  she  been  more  full  of 
vivacity,  more  full  of  playfulness,  and  fanciful  whimsies  in  beha- 
viour and  speech.  For  him,  she  seemed  to  combine,  at  once,  her 
glad  ease  and  freedom  with  Cecil,  her  banter  and  retort  with  Fer» 
mor,  her  spirited  turns  upon  Miss  White.  For  him,  she  seemed 
to  become  a  girlish  rattler  again ;  a  human  butterfly  or  airy  bird, 
or  frolicsome  midge  in  a  sunbeam — a  thing  of  light  and  life,  and 
radiant,  buoyant  motion. 

Only  to  look  at  her  was  joy  to  the  old  man's  eyes ;  only  to  hear 
her  brought  gladness  to  his  ears.  Her  very  footstep  was  a  plea- 
sure ;  her  voice  a  delight. 

She  studied  his  tastes;  she  forestalled  his  wishes;  she  tempt* 
ed  his  appetite;  she  ministered  to  his  ease.  No  time  or  thought 
bestowed  on  him  was  too  much ;  no  trifle  too  minute  to  be  consid- 
ered, in  which  ho  was  concerned. 

"  Uncle  of  uncles,  let  me  fill  your  glass,"  she  said,  while  at- 
tending to  him  at  dinner.  "  You  are  neglecting  your  wine — not 
taking  your  usual  quantity ;  and  I  will  not  have  you  pay  your  wo- 
mankind so  bad  a  compliment  as  to  let  her  suppose  you  don't  con- 
nider  her  a  worthy  boon  companion.  For  all  the  men-folk  are  no  lon- 
ger here  to  pledge  you  glass,  for  glass,  and  drink  with  you  foot  to 
foot,  yet  I  intend  you  shall  look  upon  my  gingle  glass  as  the  fair 
r>  I'rrsentative  of  a  dozen  masculine  bumpers.  Come,  your  toast ! 
What  shall  it  be?" 

"  A  pleasant  journey  to  Alicia,  a  prosperous  voyage  to  Cecil, 
•ind  a  speedy  home-return  to  Fermor  Worthington  1 "  said  the 
'Squire.  "  Aha,  Kate!  is  that  your  vaunted  toper  prowess?  Have 
you  no  more  steadiness  of  hand  than  that  comes  to  ?  Why,  if  it 
fihakc  with  the  weight  of  a  barely-filled  glass,  how  will  you  ever 
achieve  the  feat  of  dropping  a  guinea's  worth  of  silver  into  a  brim- 
HUM!  one,  without  spilling  a  single  drop?" 

Kate  l;mghc«l;  then  she  said:  "You  him  11  perform  :i  still 
pleasautt-r  achievement  in  my  eyes.  Let  me  see  how  steadily  a 


330  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

hand  more  than  double  the  age  of  mine  can  carry  a  full  glass  tc 
the  lips.  Come,  uncle,  another  glass  !  We'll  have  a  wagei 
upon  it." 

"  But  one  more  glass,  then,  my  Kate.  I  don't  think  I  care 
for  wine  as  I  used  to  do ;  it  has  somehow  lost  part  of  its  relish.'' 

"  Not  a  whit,  uncle  mine  !  That's  one  of  your  fancies.  Now, 
listen  to  me,  and  I'll  prove  to  you  that  you  like  it  just  as  well  as 
ever.  With  soup,  you  would  fain  have  me  believe  you  do  not  care 
much  to  drink ;  yet  a  glass  of  Madeira  comes  not  unwelcomely 
after  gravy,  or  ox-tail,  surely  ?  With  fish — well — no  great  mat- 
ter; still,  a  glass  of  golden  sherry  following  turbot  or  salmon, 
methinks,  smacks  palateably.  You  don't  dislike  wine,  perhaps, 
with  hot  meat,  but  with  cold,  you  can  do  without  it ;  yet,  a  slice 
of  cold  roast  beef,  or  a  dainty  sliver  of  ham,  is  admirably  washed 
down  with  a  glass  of  generous  vintage.  Game  ushers  in  Burgun- 
dy, mighty  well ;  some  of  your  tawny,  racy  old  port — your  '  bottled 
velvet,'  uncle — comes  far  from  amiss  after  Cheshire  or  Stilton. 
Bright,  delicate  Lisbon  you  wouldn't  refuse  with  tart  or  pudding ; 
and  I'd  be  sorry  to  be  a  jug  of  cold  claret  in  your  way  at  dessert. 
I  should  be  reduced  to  emptiness  and  nothingness  in  a  twink- 
ling ! » 

"  In  whatever  shape  you  might  present  yourself  to  me,  my 
Kate,  I  believe,  I  should  never  do  away  with  you,"  smiled  he. 

"  In  other  words,  knowing  you  can't  have  your  cake  and  eat 
your  cake,  you'd  rather  starve  than  munch  it  up.  Much  obliged 
to  you  for  your  inference  of  the  cakeliness  of  my  composition !  " 
said  Kate.  "  But  you'll  think  me  a  tipsy  cake  if  I  let  my  tongue 
run  on  at  this  giddy  rate.  I  shall  retreat  to  the  oak-parlour,  beg- 
ging you  to  remark  that  my  pace  is  perfectly  sober,  and  that  I 
expect  you  soon  to  join  me  there  in  a  like  state  of  sobriety  and 
satiety — alias,  properly  dull  satisfaction." 


"  I  think  this  is  the  hour  we  miss  them  most,  Kate,"  said  the 
'Squire,  as  he  sat  lounging  in  his  arm-chair  during  twilight.     Al- 


THE    IEON    COUSIN.  331 

though  the  summer  was  scarcely  gone,  the  evenings  began  to  be 
chilly,  and  Kate  had  had  a  fire  lighted,  knowing  her  ancle  liked 
its  warmth  and  cheerful  blaze,  while  putting  off  the  coming  in  of 
candles  as  long  as  possible.  "  I  miss  Cecil's  gay,  good-humoured 
laiurh  ;  I  miss  Fermor's  constant  kindness,  and  thoughtful,  atten- 
tive ways — quietly  preventing  one's  wishes,  while  ho  seemed  moat 
calm  and  unobservant.  They're  excellent,  good  fellows  I  I  love 
them  both  dearly.  Each,  in  their  way,  delightful  companions* 
Cecil,  perhaps,  is  the  more  sparkling  and  lively ;  but  Fermor  has 
sound  sense,  true  feeling,  and  noble  ways  of  thinking.  Which  of 
them — setting  aside  relationship,  of  course — which  of  the  two  do 
you  like  best,  Kate?" 

"  It  is  difficult  to  say,"  she  returned,  after  a  moment,  stooping 
over  a  vase  of  flowers  upon  the  table  by  her ;  "  I  might  as  well  try 
to  tell  you  which  I  prefer  of  these  two  flowers — this  forget-me- 
not,  or  this  heart's-ease ;  one's  blue,  and  the  other's  purple;  each, 
as  you  say,  good  in  their  way,  but  quite  different  shades  of  charac- 
ter and  colour." 

•'  Well,  the  heart's-ease  shall  represent  Cecil,  and  the  other, 
Fermor.  I  think  the  blithe,  light-hearted  freshness  of  the  one  is 
not  badly  symboled ;  it  brightens  and  enlivens  our  season.  Bat 
the  steady  forget-me-not,  with  its  kindly  remembrance,  its  earnest 
eyes  of  faith  and  loving  constancy,  precisely  emblems  our  young 
kinsman.  I  could  imagine  Cecil  ceasing  to  bear  us  in  memory 
after  a  time.  He  is  a  creature  of  the  present  He  exists  in  the 
present.  But,  in  sunshine  or  in  shade,  in  health  or  in  sickness,  in 
prosperity  or  in  reverse,  present  or  absent,  for  months  or  for  years, 
for  life  and  for  death,  now  and  ever,  I  feel  I  could  rely  upoi 
mor  Worthington." 

An  impulse  she  could  not  resist  made  Kate  imprint  a  kiss 
upon  her  uncle's  hand,  as  it  lay  on  the  arm  of  his  chair,  near  her. 

"  You  will  smile  at  my  partiality  for  our  own  kith  and  kin, 

but,  independently  of  that,  he  is  a  thorough  fine  I 
Not  that  Tm  ashamed  of  my  leaning  in  favour  of  my  own  relation 
tli.-n-'s  an  old  saying  that  blood's  stronger  than  water,  and " 

•   KM    .iully  iron  blood,  eh,  uuclc?"  «id  Kate,  rallying  hei 
to  reply. 


132  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"Sauce-box  !  I  only  wish  the  Iron  Cousin  were  here  to  an- 
swer for  himself,  as  you  ought  to  be  answered." 

In  the  silence  that  followed,  Kate  perceived  that  her  uncle 
was  dozing  off,  according  to  his  frequent  wont  after  dinner,  for  a 
twenty  minutes'  nap  or  so.  She  sat  perfectly  still,  gazing  into  the 
fire-light.  After  a  time,  she  turned,  and  drew  forth  the  tuft  of 
forget-me-nots  from  the  vase,  and  held  them  in  her  hand,  caress- 
ingly, tenderly.  She  recalled  her  uncle's  late  words,  in  murmur- 
ed repetition  over  them,  almost  touching  them  with  her  lips,  while 
her  eyes  were  dreamily  bent  upon  the  fire. 

Suddenly  she  started,  "  What  am  I  doing  ?  "  she  asked  her^ 
self.  "  Am  I  not  forgetting  all  my  resolves,  breaking  through 
my  own  restrictions;  indulging  in  worse  than  idle,  fruitless 
thoughts  ?  "  She  made  a  motion  as  if  to  throw  the  forget-me-nots 
into  the  fire,  but  drew  back  her  hand.  "  I  may  surely  keep  these. 
They  are  but  a  few  flowers.  '  But  a  few  flowers  ! ' — yet  how  as- 
sociated ?  Be  true  to  the  spirit  of  your  own  meaning,  Kate  !  Be 
an  honest  girl  with  yourself !  I  cannot  throw  them  away  ;  but  I 
will  put  them  away,  and  look  at  them  no  more." 

She  deliberately  went  and  reached  down  a  book,  laid  the  for- 
get-me-nots between  the  leaves,  and  replaced  the  volume. 

As  she  returned  to  her  seat,  her  uncle  woke  up,  and  she  pro- 
posed a  game  of  chess,  vowing  to  beat  him  unmercifully. 

"  And  the  beauty  of  beating  your  antagonist  at  chess,  is,  that 
you  leave  his  self-love  no  loophole  for  complacent  consolation.  He 
knows,  if  he  lose,  it  is  through  his  own  want  of  skill,  since  there 
is  no  particle  of  chance  in  the  game,  but  all  is  sheer,  hard,  fore- 
thought and  head-work.  Look  about  you,  uncle ;  for  I  mean  to 
rout  your  forces  front  and  rear,  right  and  left,  van  and  vanguard ; 
upset  'em  root  and  branch ;  defeat  'em  utterly,  wholly,  and  hope- 
lessly !  " 

"  You  barbarous  little  villain,  you  !  Take  care  /  don't  con- 
quer ! " 

"  Conquer  away,  uncle  !     Do  your  worst  1 " 


TIII-:  LRON  coi  333 

Although  Kate  thus  preserved  her  mastery  over  herself,  and 
carried  all  off  with  unabated  vivacity  during  the  day,  at  night, 
when  away  from  her  uncle,  when  the  hours  of  darkness  shrouded 
her  from  every  human  eye — even,  as  it  were,  from  her  own — her 
tone  of  mind  relaxed,  her  heart  drooped,  her  very  soul  felt  sad- 
dened and  sick.  She  lay  sleepless,  motionless,  and  worn  out;  or 
sho  tossed  wearily  and  restlessly  to  and  fro,  unable  to  get  repose. 
She  fought  against  this  rebellion  of  the  spirit,  never  once  tamely 
yielding  to  its  depressing  influence,  still  less,  wilfully  giving  way 
to  its  ascendancy,  or  allowing  it  insensibly  to  creep  and  increase 
upon  her.  All  that  lay  in  her  own  power  she  did,  to  resist  its 
dangerous  empire.  She  arose  at  her  usual  hour — nay,  earlier, 
and  devoted  the  space  before  her  uncle  descended  to  the  breakfast 
room  in  pursuing  her  ordinary  avocations;  in  reading,  drawing, 
and  studying  music  alternately.  Her  hardest  effort  was  to  com- 
mand her  voice  to  sing;  but  even  this  she  accomplished  by  dint 
of  strenuous,  honest  endeavour. 

"  My  darling,  I  wish  you  wouldn't  think  it  necessary  to  get 
up  at  such  labourers'  hours,"  said  Matty  to  her,  one  morning 
"  If  you  were  going  out  to  field-work,  to  toil  at  weeding,  or  hay- 
making, at  reaping,  or  harvesting,  or  gleaning,  you  couldn't  do 
more  than  you  do  now,  a  young  lady  born  and  bred,  who  needn't 
to  move  a  finger  or  stir  a  peg,  if  she  don't  choose.  And  here 
are  you,  up  by  dawn,  drudging  away  as  soon  as  it's  daylight,  at 
all  those  jigamarees  of  music,  and  painting,  and  reading,  and 
drawing,  like  any  negro  governess,  just  as  if  you  had  to  slave  for 
your  livelihood."  • 

"  Perhaps  I  might  find  it  hard,  if  I  did  it  for  a  livelihood; 
but  as  I  do  it  by  choice,  of  my  own  accord,  of  my  own  free  will, 
to  please  myself,  there's  a  charm  in  it,  you  see,  Mattykin." 

"  Ay,  but  you  might  take  it  a  little  more  easy,"  returned 
Matty.  "  You  needn't  do  it  quite  so  fixed  like,  so  duty  like. 
You  might  set  about  it  not  quite  so  methodical,  somehow,  aa  if 
you  must  do  it.  You  might  make  it  not  so  plodding,  you  know  j 
more  like  a  pleasure,  instead  of  a  task,  or  a  business." 

"  You're  a  nice  distinguishes  upon  my  word.  Muttvkin.     But 


334  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

I  need  hardly  remind  you  (who  are  a  diligent  reader  yourself, 
of  one  book),  that  there  is  such  a  sentence  as  '  Whatsoever  thy 
hand  findeth  to  do,  do  it  with  thy  might ; '  and  upon  this  prin- 
ciple it  is,  that  I  work  at  my  amusements." 

"  Ay,  but  what  I  most  mean  is,  that  you  shouldn't  wear  your- 
self out  by  setting  to  work  so  early.  It's  my  opinion,  you  don't 
sleep  over  well ;  and  you  should  lie  an  hour  or  two  later,  to  make 
up  lost  time." 

"  An  odd  way  of  saving  it !  Slug-a-beds  are  among  the 
worst  spendthrifts  and  wasters  of  time.  But  what  makes  you 
think  I  don't  sleep  well  ?  Stuff  and  nonsense !  I  sleep  as 
soundly  as  ever — that  is,  when " 

"  Yes,  yes ;  when  you  do  sleep.  But  I  don't  think  you  get 
to  sleep  much  o'nights,  now-a-days." 

"  Folly !  absurd !  what  makes  you  take  such  ridiculous 
notions  into  your  head,  Matty  ? " 

"  Not  so  foolish,  neither ;  I  can  see  before  my  nose,  and  I 
can  see  that  your  eyes  look  heavy,  and  dim,  and  stiff,  when  I 
come  to  you  first  of  a  morning ;  and  I  can  hear  you  toss  and 
tumble — ay,  and  sigh,  too,  late  at  night,  when  you  ought  to  be 
fast  as  a  church.  Don't  tell  me  that  you  sleep  as  you  ought,  Misa 
Kate,  darling." 

"  Matty,  you  must  have  been  listening  at  my  room-door,  for 
you  to  have  discovered  this ;  and  I  wo'n't  have  you  do  it,  and  I 
wo'n't  have  you  watch  my  looks,  and  make  out  all  sorts  of  pre- 
posterous fancies  about  me, — that  have  no  foundation  but  your 
own  silly  anxiety." 

"  None  so  silly !  I'm  not  blind  or  deaf,  and  I  know  when 
anything's  going  wrong,  'specially  with  my  own  darling.  Ah, 
this  love  !  this  love  !  But  it's  only  what  wo  must  all  come  to,  I 
suppose,  sooner  or  later." 

Kate  was  speechless  from  surprise,  fiom  anger,  from  agita- 
tion. 

"  I'm  not  so  blind  but  I  can  see,  that  ever  since  that  day,  a 
change  has  come  over  you,  Miss  Kate,  my  darling.  I'm  not  so 
blind  but  I  can  see — for  all  you  carry  it  off  so  spirity — thai 


THE    IRON    COt  335 

you've  never  been  quite  yourself,  really  and  truly,  from  that  time. 
Pin  none  so  blind,  but  I  could  see  you  walking  in  the  rose-walk 
that  evening,  after  the  news  of  his  going  away  to  India;  and 
though  I  couldn't  make  out  much  of  what  you  both  satrf,  yet  it 
wasn't  because  I  was  deaf;  and  I  could  see  you,  fast  enough,  both 
of  you." 

"So.  then,  you  have  been  watching  me  again  !  For  all  I  told 
you  I  wouldn't  have  it  done — for  all  I  warned  you.  Matty,  I 
don't  choose  to  have  a  spy  about  me.  I'll  have  no  eaves-drop- 
pin':  busy-body  near  me.  Matty,  you  shall  never  dress  me 
again." 

••  Miss  Kate  !"  exclaimed  the  nurse.  "What,  I,  that  held 
you  in  my  arms  when  you  first  drew  breath  ;  that  nursed  your 
own  mother  living  and  dying ;  that  starved  for  her  and  with  her ; 
that  begged  in  the  streets  for  her  new-born  baby." 

"  Matty,  you  make  a  merit  of  your  services ;  you  reproach 
me  with  your  past  good  deeds ;  you  boast  of  them,  and  think 
they  give  you  a  right  to  treat  me  as  you  will ;  to  meddle  with 
me,  watch  me,  play  the  spy  and  the  eaves-dropper ;  and  I  think 
no  such  thing.  For  all  that  you  have  been  to  me,  I  am  grateful 
— I  can  never  forget  it ;  but  neither  can  I  forget  what  you  have 
ilonr  :«incc :  and  after  I  warned  you  too!  Matty,  I  will  never 
have  you  about  me  again ;  you  shall  never  more  dress  me,  or  wait 
upon  me." 

i  Kate  Ireton  walked  straight  out  of  the  room. 


The  next  morning,  on  awaking,  she  missed  the  kindly  voice, 
and  j)cttin«r  ministry  of  the  faithful  old  nurse;  bot  she  kept  to 
her  resolution  not  to  ring  for  her,  or  send  for  her,  or  accept  her 
personal  services  any  more. 

In  the  course  of  the  day,  remembering  some  needle-work  she 
had  intended  to  finish,  she  said  to  one  of  the  servants,  who 
chanced  to  pass  her  in  the  hall,  '•  Oh,  Robert!  tell  Mrs.  Martha 
to  send  me  down  my " 


335  THE    IKON    COUSIN. 

"  Mrs.  Martha's  gone  away,  Miss  Kate." 

"  (rone  away  !" 

"  (rone  away,  Miss.  She  left  the  Hall  last  night.  She's 
gone  down  to  live  at  the  village.  She  means  to  take  a  lodging 
there,  I  heard  Dorothy  say,  on  account  of  some  words  as  passed 
between  her  and  you,  Miss  Kate,  which  she  told  Dorothy  she 
couldn't  stomach  nohow.  And  as  you  had  said  she  shouldn't 
dress  you  in  future,  she  wouldn't  be  wanted,  and  wouldn't  stay. 
Leastways,  that's  how  Dorothy  repeated  it  to  me ;  but  I  can't 
think  Mrs.  Martha,  who's  lived  in  the  family  I  don't  know  how 
long,  and  loved  our  Miss  Kate  like  the  apple  of  her  eye,  could 
speak  so  huffish  as  this.  However,  she's  gone." 

"  She  pleases  herself,"  said  Kate.     "  When  she  has  had  her 
sulk  out,  she  will  return.     She  knows  we  shall  always  be  glad  to 
see  her  up  at  the  Hall ;  and  as  soon  as  she's  tired  of  her  banish 
ment,  she'll  come  back." 


Early  one  morning,  Kate  in  her  self-imposed  task  of  checking 
heart-thought,  by  activity  of  mind  and  diligence  of  fingers,  was 
playing  through  a  sonata  that  required  all  her  attention  to  mas- 
ter its  difficulties,  when  the  room  door  was  softly  opened,  and 
her  uncle's  old  servant,  Robert,  said  in  an  agitated,  awe-stricken 
whisper,  "  Miss  Kate,  I  wish  you  would  come  to  master.  I 
don't  know  what  to  make  of  him — but  I  don't  like  his  looks — he 
don't  seem  quite  right,  somehow." 

Kate's  life-current  seemed  to  stand  still  within  her.  But 
she  put  a  strong  constraint  upon  herself;  roused  all  her  fortitude 
and  energy,  and  said  in  a  firm  calm  way,  that  an  instant  ago  she 
could  not  have  believed  possible,  "  Tell  me  how  you  mean,  Rob- 
ert ;  tell  me  as  we  go." 

She  went  with  swift  but  steady  foot  towards  her  uncle's  room, 
while  Robert  poured  forth  his  incoherent  account. 

"  I  got  the  'Squire  up,  Miss  Kate ;  he  seemed  pretty  well 
then.  But  while  I  was  handing  him  his  things  to  dress,  he 


THE   .RON    COUSIN.  337 

turned  very  still  and  helpless,  all  of  a  sudden.  He  seemed  as  if 
he  couldn't  lift  his  arms,  or  make  any  use  of  'em.  Ho  sat  all 
lifeless  and  lumpish,  someway.  He  is  sitting  so  now ;  and  his 
eyes  look  fixed,  and  he  don't  seem  able  to  speak,  I  think." 
And  the  good  old  serving-man  burst  into  a  passion  of  tears  and 
sobs. 

"  Don't  Robert ;  be  as  quiet,  as  collected,  as  you  can.  Dear, 
good  Robert,  for  your  master's  sake,  contain  yourself."  And 
Kate  entered  her  uncle's  room. 

At  sight  of  her,  the  rigid  features  relaxed,  there  came  a  soft- 
ening over  the  poor  stricken  face ;  and  he  tried  to  hold  oat  his 
hand  towards  her,  but  it  would  not  be. 

She  took  it  into  her  own,  she  held  him  in  her  arms,  and  drew 
his  head  upon  her  bosom,  whispering  gentle,  cheering,  tender 
words.  Then  she  said  in  a  low,  distinct  voice  to  the  weeping 
servant,  "  Robert,  bid  Ben  Dimble  ride  off  immediately  to 
Dingleton  for  Doctor  Burton." 

An  effort  at  speech  from  the  'Squire  made  Kate  bend  all 
her  faculties  to  comprehend  what  he  endeavoured  to  form  into 
words. 

"  Send  for  Jack — Jack  Weldon — write,"  were  the  scarce  ar- 
ticulate words. 

"  While  they  saddle  the  horse,  I  will  get  ready  the  letter. 
llobert ;  lose  no  time." 

With  rapid  pen,  Kate  wrote  the  note  to  summon  her  uncle's 
old  friend  ;  and  before  another  five  minutes  were  over,  she 
heard  the  rapid  gallop  of  the  horse,  as  the  messenger  sped  away. 

Then  came  the  terrible  period  of  waiting ;  the  feeling  that 
she  could  do  nothing  ;  that  she  must  sit  and  watch  a  condition 
that  <he  knew  not  how  to  alleviate  ;  that  she  must  patiently  sup- 
port the  suspense,  the  agony,  of  seeing  moments  swell  into  quar- 
ts-hours, half-hours,  nay,  perhaps  hours,  while  every  instant 
was  of  consequence  to  arrest  the  fatal  course  of  that  dread  hand 
which  seemed  visibly  converting  him  into  stone  before  her  eyes. 

A  leaden  immobility  lay  upon  his  countenance,  and  held  his 
limbs  POW«T!  M  li  ;  'x>d  to  be  in  no  pain;  but  the  ab- 
II 


338  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

Bence  of  all  sensation  had  a  frightful  ill-omened  look  of  blank 
and  void,  that  was  almost  worse  to  behold  than  suffering.  The 
one  would  at  least  have  afforded  some  indication  of  a  medium  to 
convey  relief,  or  suggested  some  mode  of  administering  ease  • 
and  even  an  attempt  to  assuage  or  soothe,  would  have  been  a  cer- 
tain comfort  to  her.  But  in  this  negative  state,  this  fearful, 
quiescent,  passive  nothingness,  no  assistance,  no  help  could  she 
offer  The  whole  seemed  some  appalling  dream,  as  she  sat 
there,  watching  by  that,  motionless  figure,  herself  scarcely  less 
smitten  into  stillness. 

The  garish  sunlight  that  streamed  through  the  nearest  win 
dow,  was  like  a  cruel  mockery  ;  the  starry  blossoms  of  the  jessa- 
mine that  clustered  thickly  there,  and  sent  in  its  delicious  per- 
fume upon  the  fresh  morning  air,  struck  her  almost  as  an  offence, 
a  hateful,  oppressive,  inopportune  greeting  of  gentleness  and 
beauty,  jarring  against  this  so  deep  misery  and  affliction. 

But  gradually  the  unfailing  sustainment  and  holy  influence 
of  Nature  shod  its  gracious  balm  upon  her ;  and,  as  she  gazed  up 
into  the  blue  serene  of  heaven,  her  heart  softened  and  melted, 
and  those  divine  words  mirrored  themselves  in  her  soul :  "  0, 
my  Father,  if  it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from  me  :  never- 
theless, not  as  I  will,  but  as  thou  wilt." 

There  was  a  slight  movement ;  the  chest  heaved ;  the  face 
changed  ;  a  peace,  beautiful  to  look  upon,  crept  over  the  fea- 
tures ;  the  lips  gently  trembled ;  and  Kate  could  see  that  his 
heart  was  engaged  in  fervent,  hopeful  prayer. 

"  Kate,  my  child  !  " 

"  I  am  here,  uncle." 

"  Kate,  my  Kate !  —  God  Almighty  bless,  comfort,  pro- 
tect  "  The  voice  died  away  inwardly,  the  quivering  lips 

were  still,  and  the  eyes  closed. 

There  was  a  dread  pause. 

The  lips  never  moved  again.     The  eyes  never  more  unclosed 


THE   IRON   COUSIW.  339 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

GOOD  Dr.  Burton — the  kind,  prompt,  active  country  doctor — 
came  running  up  stairs,  two  steps  at  a  time,  pulling  off  his  glovei 
as  he  mounted,  flung  his  hat  into  one  corner  of  tho  room,  his 
cane  into  another,  and  drew  his  lancet  out  as  he  entered  the 
room,  and  strode  towards  the  recumbent  figure. 

But  a  second  sufficed  to  his  practised  eye ;  he  SAW  that  no 
help  could  avail — that  all  was  over. 

"  Good  God  !  What's  that  ?  "  he  said,  as  his  foot  encoun- 
tered somewhat  he  had  not  observed  before,  on  the  floor,  close 
beside  the  couch. 

It  was  Kate  Ireton,  who,  when  she  witnessed  that  last  ex 
piring  sigh,  and  saw  that  it  was  death,  had  sunk  in  a  heap  upon 
the  ground,  senseless. 

The  good  Doctor  raised  her  in  his  arms,  and  carried  her  into 
her  own  room,  and  laid  her  on  the  bed. 

"  Poor  child  ! "  he  said  ;  "  this  is  a  cruel  blow  for  her.  Here, 
some  of  you,  my  good  people,"  he  added,  turning  to  the  sorrow- 
ful group  of  servants,  who  had  gathered  tremblingly  around, 
"  send  her  own  woman  to  take  care  of  your  young  mistress  ;  she's 
in  a  deep  swoon,  poor  thing !  and  ought  to  have  some  one  about 
her,  near,  to  watch  her  when  she  comes  to  herself." 

"  Her  own  woman, — her  nurse, — Mistress  Martha,  sir ;  she'i 
not  here,  if  you  please,  sir — that  is,  Doctor." 

"  No  matter ;  send  any  one  of  the  women  servants." 

"  Old  Dorothy,  the  housemaid,  sir— Doctor,  I  mean  ;  she'll 

••  Ay,  ay,  she'll  do  as  well  as  another.  All  women  arc  more 
or  less  nurses  by  nature.  They  take  to  it  kindly  ;  it  comes  as 
pat  to  them  as  it  comes  awkwardly  to  us.  Bid  her  make 

haste." 

«  Yes,  sir  ;  but  she's  old.     We're  all  of  us  old.     The  'Squire 


340  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

would  turn  none  of  us  away,  because  we  grew  old.     We  shall 
never  have  such  a  master  again  !  " 


When  Kate  Ireton  at  length  returned  to  a  consciousness  of 
existence  from  her  death-like  swoon,  evening  was  closing  in.  She. 
at  first,  neither  knew  where  she  was,  nor  what  had  happened. 
But  soon,  remembrance  stabbed  sharp  and  piercingly  to  her  heart, 
and  she  uttered  a  heavy  moan. 

Old  Dorothy  stood  by  her,  and  attempted  some  homely,  well- 
meant  consolation ;  matter-of-course  words,  that  grate  upon  the 
ear  with  their  impotence  to  carry  sense  or  soothing  to  the  soul- 
stricken  mourner. 

Kate  lay  looking  at  her  with  lustreless,  vacant  eye  ;  neither 
weeping  nor  sobbing,  but  breathing  profound  sighs,  with  now  and 
then  those  deep,  dull,  inward  moans. 

This  dumb,  tearless  grief  perplexed  the  good  woman,  who 
felt  wholly  unable  to  deal  with  it.  She  could  only  stand  there, 
crying  bitterly,  and  begging  her  young  mistress  to  "  try  some 
tea." 

"  It'll  do  ye  good,  Miss  Kate ;  I'm  sure  it  would.  A  cup 
o'  tea  always  does  me  good  in  the  worst  o'  troubles.  Do'ee  now, 
Miss  Kate  ;  only  try  it." 

And  old  Dorothy  hobbled  away ;  in  her  zealous  desire  to 
prevail  with  her  young  mistress  to  essay  this  favourite  remed}', 
she  went  in  search  of  some  for  her. 

She  was  no  sooner  alone,  than  Kate  feebly  struggled  to  rise ; 
but  her  eyes  swam,  her  head  reeled ;  and,  on  attempting  to  set 
foot  to  the  ground,  she  fell  prone.  When  Dorothy  returned 
with  the  steaming  cup  of  tea,  she  found  her  in  another  strong 
fainting-fit. 

It  was  dead  of  night  when  she  again  revived  ;  but  her  senses 
wandered,  and  she  spoke  rapidly  and  incoherently. 

"  I  must  go  !  Do  not  hold  me  !  I  must  go,  I  tell  you  1  I 
must  see  him  again  !  " 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  341 

"  Hush  1  Miss  Kate  ;  don't'ec  take  on  so.     Hush,  then  !" 

"  Why  do  you  bid  me  hush  ?  Who  bid  you  restrain  ine — 
»nd  chide  me  ?  I  cannot  be  silent — I  must  go  !  He  will  be 
t:ikrn  away  before  I  can  reach  him — before  I  can  see  him  again." 

She  broke  from  thojold  woman's  arms,  and  threw  herself  out 
of  bed,  staggering  wildly  and  blindly  forward.  But  again  she 
dropped  senseless. 

Lu  the  morning,  when  Dr.  Burton  came  to  enquire  after  her, 
he  found  her  in  this  dangerous  state,  having  had  repeated  faint- 
ing-fits, and  scarcely  recovering  from  one  ere  falling  into  another. 

He  declared  that  all  depended  upon  Kate's  being  kept  quiet. 
"  Her  very  life,"  he  said,  to  Dorothy,  "  depends  upon  it ;  you 
must  keep  her  quiet." 

'•  Ay,  it's  all  very  well  for  doctors  to  give  orders,"  grum- 
bled the  poor  old  creature  ;  '•  but  I'll  be  whipped  if  their  orders 
can  always  be  attended  to.  Here's  our  Miss  Kate,  who's  never 
been  said  nay  to  all  her  life,  and  don't  know  what  it  is  to  obey, 
or  do  what  she's  told,  is  to  be  kept  quiet,  whether  she  will  or  no. 
Not  an  archangel  from  Heaven  could  make  her  keep  quiet,  if  she 
hasn't  a  mind  to  it  !  " 

But  Kate  seemed  to  have  no  mind  for  anything  else  now. 
She  sunk  into  utter  passiveness.  She  lay,  incapable  of  stirring, 
iif  taking  note  of  anything,  of  moving,  or  seeing,  or  speaking. 

The  second  day,  Dorothy  came  to  her  bed-side,  and  said  : 
"  The  gentleman  wants  to  see  you,  if  you  please,  Miss  Kate.'1 

Kate  gave  a  convulsive  stai  t.  "  Gentleman  !  What  gentle- 
man :'  "  she  faintly  exclaimed. 

;'  The  lawyer  gentleman,  Miss.  Him  as  come  down  last 
iii^ht.  lie's  been  sitting  in  the  library,  a-ferreting  among  mas- 
ter's papers,  I  hear.  But  Robert  says  it's  all  right ;  for  that  he 
\vas  sent  for  by  master  himself." 

"  True,"  said  Kate,  putting  hc-r  hand  to  her  head,  and  strir- 
hii:  to  think  sanely  and  steadily. 

•  And  he's  just  sent  to  say  he  wants  to  sec  you,  Miw  Kate, 
if  you'll  step  down  to  him  in  the  library,  h- 

Kate  made  an  effort  to  sit  up — to  got  up.     She  leaned  upon 


312  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

Dorothy's  arm ;  but  no  sooner  did  she  attempt  to  walk,  than  she 
tottered,  trembled  from  head  to  foot,  and  sank  back  upon  the 
bed. 

"  You  see — I  cannot.     Tell  him  so." 

As  Dorothy  assisted  her  young  mistress  to  lie  down  again, 
she  muttered  :  "  I  don't  know  whether  it  a'n't  worse — more  heart- 
breaking like — to  see  her  try  and  do  as  she's  told,  than  to  see  her 
following  her  own  head.  She  don't  seem  like  herself — nat'ral, 
somehow — when  she's  this  way." 

And  Dorothy  pottered  down  stairs  to  the  library,  where  she 
put  her  head  in  at  the  door,  and  said  :  "  My  young  lady  can't 
come,  sir  !  " 

"  Humph  !  A  tolerably  cool  message,"  was  the  dry  reply. 
"  I  remember,  of  old,  she  was  a  mighty  peremptory,  wilful  little 

personage  ;  but  Hal  loved  her,  and Harkee,  Mrs.  Abigail ! 

Tell  your  young  lady  that  I  am  obliged  to  return  to  town,  now  ; 
but  that  I  shall  make  a  point  of  returning  to  pay  the  last  respect 
to  my  dear  old  friend,  her  uncle ;  and  shall  then  expect,  to  see 
her.  Tell  her  my  exact  words,  if  you  please,  my  good  old  lady  ; 
that  is,  as  nearly  as  you  can,"  he  added  to  himself.  ':  Your 
tribe  are  not  famed  for  bearing  messages  faithfully,  or  repeating 
accurately.  We  should  have  less  trouble  than  we  have  with 
blundering  witnesses  were  it  otherwise." 


The  few  followings  days  wore  away  in  the  same  outward  apa- 
thy with  Kate.  But,  internally,  she  was  devoting  every  effort 
to  gain  strength  for  carrying  out  her  purpose  of  once  more  visit- 
ing her  uncle's  room,  to  take  a  last  farewell  look  of  that  beloved 
face,  to  breathe  a  last  farewell  kiss  upon  those  lips  which  had 
received  and  bestowed  so  many  warm,  living,  happy  caresses  ;  to 
utter  one  last  farewell  prayer  beside  him  who  had  been  the  ob- 
ject of  her  daily  prayers  ever  since  she  knew  what  prayer  meant. 
For  him  had  been  her  first-lisped,  childish  "  God  bless  dear 
ancle  ! "  for  him  had  been  poured  forth  her  fondest,  tenderest 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  343 

aspirations  ;  for  him  bad  been  ber  earliest  tbought  on  waking  . 
for  him,  ber  last  supplication  ere  sbe  slept ;  in  bim  bad  concen- 
tred ber  profoundest  feelings  of  grateful  adoration  poured  forth 
to  the  Almighty  Father  who  bad  bestowed  this  earthly  parent 
upon  her  orphaned  existence.  He  it  was  who  drew  forth,  in 
ceaseless  flow,  her  most  fervent,  her  most  pious  rapture  of  thanks- 
giving. 

As  the  time  drew  near  when  she  knew  he  would  be  borne 
away,  never  more  to  be  beholden  by  ber  in  this  world,  ber  eager- 
ness grew  to  intensity ;  but  sbe  sought  to  still  it,  that  sbe  might 
gain  power  of  frame  and  limb,  out  of  composure  of  spirit. 

Her  late  struggle  with  her  own  heart,  previously  to  this  last 
crowning  blow,  had  been  more  severe  than  Kate  imagined.  The 
sustained  effort  to  appear  at  ease,  when  secretly  her  feelings  were 
in  ferment ;  the  perpetual  strain  upon  them  to  control  and  stifle 
their  natural  working,  and  quell  their  agitation  ;  the  endeavour 
not  only  to  suppress  any  outward  token  of  them,  but  to  forbid 
herself  any  actual  encouragement  of  them — not  only  to  prevent 
their  seeing  the  light,  but  to  strangle  them  in  their  very  birth — 
had  wrought  a  powerful  effect  upon  her.  But  when,  in  addition 
to  this,  came  the  overwhelming  shock  of  her  bereavement,  sho 
sunk,  stunned  and  prostrate. 

Wearied  out  with  suffering,  she  had,  at  length,  fallen  into  a 
heavy  slumber.  It  lasted  some  hours.  When  she  awoke,  the 
lamp  was  burning  low,  and  the  room  was  in  silence,  save  for  the 
contented  snoring  of  poor  old  Dorothy,  who,  seeing  her  young 
mistress  at  rest  and  asleep,  had  gradually  yielded  to  the  welcome 
example. 

Kate  raised  her  head  from  the  pillow,  leaned  upon  her  elbow, 
and  sought  to  learn  whether  she  had  indeed  gathered  the  strength 
10  desired — so  eagerly  wooed. 

She  felt  that  she  was  stronger— really  stronger— strong 
enough  to  get  up,  stand  up,  to  support  herself,  and  walk.  Sho 
t.mk' the  lamp  in  hrr  hand,  and  wi-nt  vf'tly  forth.  The  air  in 
»he  outer  gallery  farther  revived  her ;  and  as  she  took  the  pas- 
sage lea  ling  to  her  uncle's  room,  she  was  conscious  of  being 


844  THE    IRON   COUSIN. 

bodily  equal  to  the  farewell  her  soul  had  vowed  to  take.  This 
consciousness  fortified  her  yet  more,  and  she  passed  on,  grateful 
for  the  vouchsafed  power. 

"  One  instant's  pause  at  the  chamber-door  ;  and,  the  next,  she 
entered.  Pale  as  the  corpse  that  lay  stretched  there,  yet  upborne 
by  pious  courage  and  faithful,  reverent  affection,  Kate  approach- 
ed, and  looked  upon  that  beloved  face.  The  deep  peace,  the 
tranquil,  consummate  content,  still  dwelt  upon  the  features,  and 
she  sank  upon  her  knees,  blessing  God  for  that  signal  of  Earth's 
final  thought,  of  Heaven's  opening  promise. 

Pouring  forth  her  heart,  long  she  knelt.  Then  arose,  filled 
with  a  serenity  and  trust  she  could  not  have  believed,  a  few  hours 
since,  would  ever  be  hers  again  to  feel.  And  so,  with  one  last 
kiss  impressed  upon  those  cold,  dear  lips,  she  withdrew,  returned 
to  her  own  chamber,  threw  herself  upon  her  bed,  and  slept  once 
more  the  sleep  of  youth,  of  saner  health,  and  calmer  mind. 


"  Deary  me  !  but  you're  looking  a  deal  better,  though,  this 
morning,  Miss  Kate.  A'most  quite  yourself,  as  a  body  may 
say,"  remarked  old  Dorothy,  as  she  saw  the  expression  of  Kate's 
countenance,  and  noticed  the  less  deathly  hue  it  wore,  when  she 
woke  late  next  day.  "  Ah,  most  folks  gets  better,  so  soon  as  the 
funeral's  once  over,"  she  added  to  herself.  "  Nothing  like  open- 
ed shutters,  and  the  body  taken  away  and  buried,  for  bringing 
people  round.  It  brightens  everything  up  again ;  mourners  and 
all,  somehow." 

"  Did  you  not  deliver  some  message,  when  you  called  me, 
Dorothy  ?  I  did  not  rightly  understand.  Some  one  enquiring 
for  me  in  the  library,  I  think  you  said.  Surely  not." 

"  Yes,  Miss  Kate;  but  there  is.  It's  that  lawyering  gentle- 
man. He  joined  the  train,  and  took  the  lead,  and  settled  every 
filing,  and  ordered  about,  and  managed  how  all  should  be.  And 
when  the  gentry  went  home  in  their  carriages,  after  it  was  over 
Le  marched  hisself  into  the  library  again,  as  grand  as  you  please, 
aid  sent  me  to  fetch  you,  Miss  Kate." 


Tin:  IRON  coosui.  345 

"  I  nm  ready,"  said  Kate.  "  It  is  Mr.  Weldon.  He  has  a 
right  here.  He  was  asked  here.  I  will  go  down  to  him  at 
once." 

The  broad  glare  of  daylight  struck  upon  her  senses,  dazzling 
her  sight,  and  oppressing  her  darkened  heart,  as  she  descended 
the  stair-case,  and  crossed  the  large  old  hall.  But  she  summon- 
ed firmness,  and  proceeded.  She  turned  the  handle  of  the 
library-door,  and  went  in. 

The  lawyer  was  seated  at  the  table,  looking  over  papers  ;  but 
on  seeing  Kate  enter,  he  rose,  with  the  instinctive  respect  in- 
spired by  the  presence  of  a  great  and  sincere  sorrow,  placed  a 
rhair  for  her,  and  then  quietly  resumed  his  own. 

Kate  did  not  take  the  offered  seat ;  but  walked  to  the  fire- 
place, and  leaned  against  the  mantel-piece,  with  her  hand  sup- 
porting her  forehead,  as  she  stood  looking  at  him  who  occupied 
the  place  where  her  uncle  used  to  sit. 

"  I  sent  for  you,  young  lady,  to  hear  some  business  details 
with  which  it  is  necessary  you  should  be  made  acquainted.  I 
could  have  wished  to  have  consulted  you,  before  I  took  any 
active  steps ;  but  it  seems  you  could  not  attend  to  me  then, — 
hadn't  leisure,  or  inclination, — as  I  inferred  from  your  curt  roes 
sage.  I,  having  so  much  leisure,  and  so  very  much  inclination 
to  dance  attendance  upon  young  ladies,  was,  of  course,  to 
wait  your  pleasure.  But  this  I  was  not  able  to  do ;  having  to 
return  to  town,  to  my  own  affairs.  Between  whiles,  however,  I 
found  time  to  look  into  those  that  I  saw  had  little  chance  of  set- 
tlement if  I  didn't  take  them  in  hand  ;  and  which,  accordingly,  I 
felt  entitled,  nay,  called  upon,  to  do.  I'm  glad  therefore,  young 
lady,  that  you've  thought  fit  to  see  me  this  time,  instead  of  send- 
ing me  any  such  second  message." 

What  was  the  first  ?  "  said  Kate. 

"  That  you  couldn't  come." 

"  I  literally  could  not.    I  made  the  attempt.    But  I  couldn't 
I  dropped  down.     Didn't  they  tell  you  ?  " 

The  lawyer  tm.k  a  pinch  of  snuff,  and   turned  to  the  table, 
and  routed  among  the  papers,  and  muttered  to  himself 
15" 


346  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

tetchy,  peppery  old  ass  !  I  forgot  she  must  be  in  grief, — in  much 
grief.  She  looks  pale,  ill.  Won't  you  sit  down,  young  lady  ?  ' 
he  added  aloud ;  "  I  have  much  to  tell  you,  that  you  must 
listen  to." 

"  I  can  stand  ;  I  an?  quite  able  to  stand.  Go  on  ;  I  am  lis- 
tening." 

"  When  I  was  summoned  hither,  I  found,  as  I  expected, — 
knowing  human  nature,  and  my  friend  Hal's  in  particular, — HC 
will,  no  insurance  effected,  affairs  in  confusion,  nothing  but  disor 
der,  improvidence,  want  of  forethought  and  foresight,  careless 
ness,  recklessness,  and  debt." 

"  How  dare  you  !  How  dare  you  to  speak  so,  of, — of, — of 
him! "  And  Kate  Ireton  broke  into  the  first  tears  she  had  shed 
since  her  loss. 

The  lawyer  looked  at  her  in  grave  astonishment.  Then  he 
took  snuff  again,  turned  to  the  table,  and  began  writing ;  partly 
to  give  her  time  to  recover,  partly  in  ire  at  her  vehemence.  He 
disliked  to  see  women  cry, — it  was  foolish,  irrational,  useless,  and 
very  unpleasant  to  witness  ;  particularly  when  the  woman  was  so 
young  and  so  very  beautiful.  As  Kate  stood,  her  face  buried  in 
her  handkerchief,  giving  way  to  the  long-pent  flood,  Mr.  John 
Wcldon  eyed  her  askance,  feeling  exceedingly  uncomfortable, 
fidgetty,  and  angry.  Then  he  took  another  pinch  of  snuff,  as  if 
to  gather  patience  beneath  this  inevitable,  but  perhaps  salutary 
evil.  He  felt  it  might  relieve  her,  ease  her  heart ;  and  therefore 
he  had  no  right  to  check  it,  but  must  submit  to  the  infliction  of 
beholding  it,  so  long  as  she  chose  to  weep  on. 

But  Kate  Ireton  seldom  wept ;  and  never  gave  way  to  weep- 
ing. She  dried  her  eyes,  after  this  one  paroxysm  of  irrepressi- 
ble emotion ;  looked  up,  and  said :  "  Say  what  you  have  to 
say,  if  you  please.  I  am  attending.  I  will  not  interrupt  you 
again." 

"  Long  ago,'  began  Mr.  Weldon;  but  he  was  obliged  to  clear 
his  voice  before  he  went  on  :  "  long  ago,  when  you  were  a  little 
creature,  and  I  saw  how  entirely  my  old  friend's  heart  was  bound 
up  in  you,  I  tried  to  persuade  him  to  do  two  all  important  thinga 


THE   IfiON   COUSIN.  347 

— insure  his  life,  and  make  his  will.  He  did  neither.  He  pro- 
mised me  to  do  both  ;  but  he  did  neither.  I  ought  to  have  known 
better  than  to  have  trusted  a  promise  of  that  sort.  I  ought  to 
have  seen  that  he  did  it.  I  ought  to  have  made  him  do  it — as- 
certained that  it  was  done, — knowing  how  essential  it  was  to  the 
securing  of  his  own  wishes  with  regard  to  you,  in  whom  his  hap- 
piness was  centred.  I  take  blame  to  myself  for  this, — loving  him 
as  I  did,  yet  being  aware  of  his  foible,  his  peculiarities.  I  need 
not  tell  you  that  your  uncle  hated  trouble  j  that  he  was  too  care- 
less a  fellow  to  look  much  into  expenditure,  too  good  a  fellow  to 
be  fond  of  money,  and  too  unworldly  a  fellow  to  have  the  manage- 
ment of  it.  He  let  his  own  come  in,  he  regarded  not  how,  so  that 
it  sufficed  for  your  and  his  wants  ;  he  let  it  go,  he  heeded  not 
how,  so  that  it  supplied  just  what  was  necessary  for  the  support 
of  the  estate,  and  the  support  of  you  two.  It  has  held  out  till 
now ;  but  the  crisis  must  have  come  soon,  and  perhaps  he  is  best 
spared  the  pain  of  witnessing  it  The  estate  devolves  to  the  heir- 
at-law  ;  while  the  personal  property,  when  realized,  will  coverall 
debts,  so  that  his  honour  will  be  saved.  I  think  I  read  you  well 
enough,  young  lady,  to  know  that  this  thought  will  outweigh  with 
you  the  regret  of  seeing  Ucathoote  pass  into  other  hands.  When 
the  personals  are  sold,  and  all  is  paid  off,  I  fear  there  will  remain 
but  little.  Perhaps  a  euui  sufficient  to  yield  you  somewhere 
about  thirty  or  forty  pounds  yearly  ;  and  that,  though  a  poor  pit- 
is  yet  better  than  some  hapless  souls  can  call  their  own. 
It  shall  be  placed  iu  the  Diugletou  bank  for  you ;  and  will  be 
ready  there,  for  you  to  draw  monthly,  quarterly,  or  half-yemrlj, 
as  may  suit  your  convenience." 

Kate  bowed  her  head. 

'•  It  is  a  maxim  of  mine,  that  when  disagreeable  things  har« 
to  be  done,  they're  better  done  at  once ;  I  have  therefore  arrang 
ed  that  the  sale  shall  take  place  without  delay.  The  people  will 
be  duwn  here  to  put  things  in  train  to-morrow.  Now,  as  I  think 
it  will  be  a  pain  to  you  to  see  strangers  coming  hither,  bringing 
and  confusion  with  them,  into  all  your  haunts  of  accuatom- 
ud  privacy,  young  lady,  and  to  .sec  the  old  Hall  disturbed  and 


348  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

dismantled,  you  will  do  well  to  leave  the  place  before  these  gen 
try  arrive." 

"  You  are  right, — I  shall  go, — immediately." 

"  You  have  friends,  probably,  in  the  neighbourhood,  with  whom 
you  can  stay  for  the  present  ?  "  said  the  lawyer,  in  a  tone  of  in- 
terest. 

"  I  have  friends."  said  Kate. 

"  I'm  glad  to  hear  it,"  said  Mr.  John  Weldon.  "  Make  tho 
most  of  them.  They  don't  grow  on  every  bush.  They're  by  no 
means  common  as  blackberries,  nor  for  every  season,  like  gorsc- 
blossom.  Their  golden  bloom  is  apt  to  become  blighted,  or  frost- 
nipt,  nay,  to  wither  quite  away,  when  adverse  weather  sets  in. 
Gather  as  much  of  it  as  you  can,  and  while  you  can ;  make  your 
harvest  while  the  sun  shines.  You  have  connections,  I  think, 
in  the  county?  If  I  mistake  not,  there  are  the  Whites,  of  Egg- 
ham  Park,  and  the  family  at  Worthington  Court,  between  whom 
and  my  old  friend  some  kind  of  relationship  existed.  They'll  not 
see  his  niece  want  for  anything,  for  their  own  credit's  sake." 

"  She  would   rather  starve   than "  Kate  was  beginning 

passionately  ;  but  she  checked  herself,  and  added,  in  a  sedater 
tone  :  "  I  meant,  I  have  two  kind  friends  in  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Mea- 
dows, our  good  vicar  and  his  wife." 

"  Humph  !  A  country  parson,  with  a  wife  and  ten  children, 
isn't  much  of  a  patron,  compared  with  a  rich  relation.  The  good 
man  can't  do  any  great  things  for  you,  however  willing  he  may 
be.  Now  the  rich  relation  though  he  may  think  his  poor  one  a 
bore  and  an  incumbrance,  yet  his  own  pride  will  prevent  his  let- 
ting her  want  bread." 

"  So  long  as  she  can  earn  a  crust  for  herself,  she  need  never 
trouble  a  soul,"  said  Kate.  "  I  have  my  own  plans  for  future 
independence,  and  I  trust  to  be  able  to  carry  them  out." 

The  lawyer  smiled  and  shook  his  head,  as  if  touched  with 
that  emotion  which  experience  feels,  when  it  hears  youth  speak 
thus. 

"  My  good  young  lady,  you  have  two  awkward  points  for  a 
girl  to  begin  the  world  with,  by  herself — beautv  and  pride.  The 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  34£ 

former  will  lay  you  open  to  insults,  which  the  latter  will  make 
doubly  hard  to  bear.  Beauty  will  tempt  attack,  while  pride,  in 
stead  of  being  a  protection,  will  only  serve  to  provoke  a  desire  to 
lower  it.  You  can't  abate  your  beauty — and  perhaps  wouldn't 
if  you  could — women  are  generally  content  to  run  all  risks  rather 
than  be  without  that  too  often  fatal  possession  ;  but  you  can  give 
up  some  of  your  pride,  and  I  advise  you  to  dispose  of  the  whole 
stock  of  that  worthless  commodity  at  the  very  earliest  opportu- 
nity." 

"  I  have  never  been  apt  in  taking  advice ;  I  am  not  accus- 
tomed— not  proficient  at  it,"  said  Kate,  with  something  of  her 
old  tone. 

<;  Then  make  a  trial  now.  A  lawyer  seldom  gives  feeless  ad- 
vice. Accept  it  when  it  offers.  It'll  be  something  for  you  to 
begin  the  world  with." 

"  I  hope  to  begin  the  world,  and  to  go  through  the  world, 
with  absolute  independence." 

11  'Tis  a  pretty  vision — but  there  is  no  such  reality  in  life. 
No  one  can  be  absolutely  independent ;  not  a  throned  monarch 
himself,  can  be  entirely  independent  of  his  fellow-mortals.  But 
without  compromising  your  independence,  young  lady,  you  can 
receive  the  wholesome  counsel  of  an  old  fellow  who  has  looked 
upon  the  world  for  nearly  threescore  years.  And  he  advise* 
you,  in  all  kindness  of  spirit  towards  one  whom  his  old  friend 
llarry  Ileathcote  dearly  loved,  to  try  and  root  out  pride  as  • 
vile,  rank,  spurious  growth — a  rotten,  miserable,  broken  reed, 
tliat  will  prove  a  treacherous  support,  and  desert  you  in  your  ut- 
most need,  if  you  unwisely  trust  it." 

Kate  went  straight  up  to  the  old  lawyer,  and  offered  him  her 
hand. 

"  I  hope  you  will  forgive  me  my  ungracious  speech — my  un- 
gracious behaviour,  Mr.  Weldon,"  she  said.  "  Had  it  not  been 
that  my  heart  was  very  sore,  and  made  me  view  all  things  sorely, 
I  should  hardly  have  remained  so  1-mg  unmoved  by  your  patience 
V  d  forbearance." 

"  I  believe  we  have  both  sometl  x'ive  each  other 


350  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

replied.  "  I  have  been  testy  and  inconsiderate.  In  my  ungais 
bachelor  way — little  accustomed  to  deal  with  girlish  feelings  or 
womanish  ways — I  must  have  hurt  you,  without  knowing  it,  far 
less  wishing  it." 

"  Let  me  thank  you  for  the  voluntary  trouble  you  have  taken, 
the  valuable  time  you  have  generously  bestowed — upon — upon — 
your  friend's  affairs.  And  for  having  secured  something  from 
the  wreck  for  his  Kate's  maintenance.  Your  best  thanks  will  be 
the  thought  that  in  so  doing  you  have  done  what  would  most 
truly  content  him." 

"  My  dear  young  lady,  say  no  more.  We  understand  each 
other,"  said  the  lawyer,  shaking  her  hand  warmly  between  his 
own  white,  shrivelled,  gentlemanly  ones ;  "  and  as  I  must  now 
away  to  London — I  see  the  postchaise  is  waiting  at  the  hall-door 
— I  wish  you  would  let  me  take  you  with  me,  and  set  you  down 
in  my  way,  at  your  friend  the  vicar's  house." 

"  You  forget  that  a  carriage  does  not  suit  with  my  altered 
fortunes.  I  shall  walk  down  to  the  village.  And  if  ever  my 
plans  of  independence  achieve  independent  fortune,  and  I  come 
to  ride  in  a  carriage  of  my  own,  be  assured  one  of  my  first  visits 
shall  be  to  Mr.  Weldon." 

"  Well,  well,"  he  returned;  "if,  meantime,  you  find  that  in 
dependence  might  be  the  better  for  a  little  help,  don't  fail  to  ap- 
ply to  me  for  it.  I  shall  take  it  as  a  sign  that  you  have  adopted 
my  advice,  and  sent  pride  to  the  right-about ;  and  that  will  be  a 
gratification  to  my  own  pride,  you  know.  Farewell,  my  dear 
young  lady.  Remember  John  Weldon,  if  you  need  any  aid  that 
ae  can  give  you." 


CHAPTER    XXXVIII. 

FULL  of  the  revived  and  strengthened  spirit  which  this  interview 
with  her  uncle's  old  friend,  the  lawyer,  had  imparted,  Kate  at 
once  began  her  task  of  leave-taking,  determined  to  adopt,  his 
kindly  hint  of  quitting  the  old  place  forthwith. 


THE    IBON    CO!  ^51 

She  felt  even  now  reconciled  to  the  thought  of  abandoning 
Heatlicote,  since  he  was  no  longer  there  who  had  made  it  home 
to  her.  How  could  she  have  borne  to  live  on  there  without  him? 
Yet  when  she  came  to  bid  adieu  to  all  those  wonted  spot 
scenes  of  so  much  past  happiness,  she  found  it  difficult  to  part 
from  them,  knowing  she  should  never  dwell  among  them  again. 

She  took  a  sad  leave  of  the  room — her  uncle's  owu  room — 
in  which  she  had  last  beheld  him  alive,  had  last  of  all  beheld  him 
dead.  She  gathered  some  of  the  clusters  of  jessamine  from  the 
window,  and  placed  them  tenderly  in  her  bosom,  as  she  remem- 
bered that  with  their  rich  incense-like  perfume  had  come  the 
first  softening  of  feeling  which  enabled  her  to  seek  peace  from  its 
truest  source. 

She  bade  a  regretful  adieu  to  her  own  cosy  elegant  room, 
fitted  up  with  all  her  fond  uncle's  care  for  her  comfort,  with  all 
her  own  neat  and  graceful  regard  to  tasteful  appointment. 

She  lingered  in  the  little  dressing-room — her  music-den — and 
hung  fondly  over  the  old  harpsichord,  remembering  the  many 
quiet  hours  of  improving  practice  she  had  passed  there,  and  that 
one  memorable  evening,  when  she  had  first  played  and  sung  to 
other  oars  than  her  own. 

She  visited  the  little  sketching-den  at  the  top  of  the  house, 
looking  1'mg  and  wistfully  at  the  magnificent  park  view  which  ita 
window  commanded,  while  she  reviewed  in  thought  a  c 
morning,  when  its  solitude  had  been  invaded  and  shared.  But 
••he  would  not  allow  herself  too  long  reflection  upon  this  theme ; 
and  with  a  resolute  self  constraint,  she  was  leaving  the  room, 
when  she  hastily  returned,  selected  one  sketch  from  among  th« 
and  hurried  away  with  it 

From  the  library,  and  from  other  rooms,  she  collected  all  ln-r 
own  especial  books— keepsakes  and  presents  at  various  times  f rum 
her  uncle  and  friends— books  that  she  could  indisputably  and  cou 
icientiously  call  her  own.  For  Kate  had  made  a  ucruplo  to  hor- 
lelf  of  l.-:.vitiL'  the  whole  of  the  personal  property  ontire  and  in- 

-ut  of  an  impression  that  the  more  there  could  be  U: 
more  sure   it  *U  to  r<  nlize  .sufficient    to  clear  her  uncle  > 
from  any  imputation  of  not  liavinir  satMie.l  all  claim*. 


852  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

In  her  innocent  anxiety  for  this,  she  had  left  all  her  own 
drawings,  and  drawing  materials,  in  the  sketching-den,  thinking 
they  might  perhaps  fetch  something,  among  the  rest  of  the  odds 
and  ends  up  there ;  and  that  in  all  probability  she  should  not  be 
able  to  pursue  so  mere  an  accomplishment,  in  the  life  of  humble 
labour  to  which  she  looked  forward  as  her  probable  future  one. 

Something  of  the  same  motives  swayed  her,  in  resolving  to 
leave  behind  her  all  her  music.  Her  last-visited  room  was  the 
oak  parlour,  where  her  happiest  hours  had  been  spent,  and  where 
also  stood  her  own  piano-forte — Fermor  Worthington's  birthday 
gift.  Partly  to  restrict  her  thoughts  from  dwelling  upon  its  do- 
nor, partly  that  she  might  consecrate  its  last-heard  tones  to  those 
thoughts  which  she  felt  should  alone  fill  her  heart  at  this  moment, 
she  sat  down  and  played  such  airs  as  might  form  a  kind  of  dirge 
for  her  loss  of  him  who  was  both  parents  in  one,  her  loss  of  home, 
of  all. 

She  played  the  grand  and  solemn  movements  of  the  Burial 
Service,  where  Croft  and  Purcell  put  the  might  of  their  English 
fervent  hearts  into  those  sublime  chords,  accompanying  those  sim- 
ply sublime  words.  Some  of  these  words  she  could  not  help  breath- 
ing forth  into  murmured  self  consolation :  "  He  that  believeth 
in  me  shall  never  die."  "  Of  whom  may  we  seek  succour  but  of 
thee,  0  Lord  ?  "  "  Thou  kuowest  the  secret  of  our  hearts ;  shut 
not  thy  merciful  ears  unto  our  prayers."  "Blessed  are  the  dead 
which  die  in  the  Lord ;  they  rest  from  their  labour." 

From  Mozart's  divine  requiem  strain  of  the  "  Recordare,"  she 
drew  strength  with  sweetness ;  courage  with  gentlest,  tenderest 
beauty. 

As  a  lofty  soul  sustaining  close,  she  played  Handel's  elevated 
and  elevating  hymn  of  hope  and  sacred  trust :  "  Then  round  about 
the  Starry  Throne ;  "  ending  with  that  glorying  phrase,  so  glori- 
ously expressed  and  rendered  into  sound,  "  And  triumph  over 
Death  and  thee,  0  Time  !  " 

Kate  Ireton  was  no  usual  indulger  in  tears ;  but  perhaps  the 
more  for  their  rare  indulgence,  did  they,  when  yielded  to,  bring 
relief  and  benefit.  As  she  played,  the  music  worked  its  own  be 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  3PJ 

nign  potency  of  influence,  and  tears  fell  into  her  bosom  like  soft 
rain — refreshing  dew — shedding  peace  upon  her  heart,  and  infu§- 
ing  confidence  and  reliance  into  her  spirit. 

Her  next  farewell  was  to  the  old  servants,  her  uncle's  tried 
aiKU'aitliful  dependants,  most  of  whom  had  grown  grey  in  his  ser- 
vice, and  who  repaid  his  bounteous  kindness  with  true  attachment 
When  Kate  saw  poor  old  Robert's  genuine  grief — how  it  had 
stricken  and  changed  the  man  into  feebleness  and  sudden  age, 
and  almost  visible  decay — her  heart  smote  her  witu  something 
like  remorse,  lest  in  the  selfishness  of  her  own  sorrow  she  had 
been  forgetful  of  his,  and  neglectful  of  himself. 

But  the  old  serving-man  spoke  affectionately  to  her,  and  cheer- 
ingly ;  bidding  her  be  of  good  heart  in  her  trouble,  and  tolling 
her — knowing,  he  said,  it  would  please  Miss  Kate's  kind  heart— 
that  Mr.  Weldon  had  behaved  very  thoughtful  and  kind  ;  that  he 
had  spoken  to  the  gentlefolks,  master's  friends,  that  morning,  when 
they  had  assembled  to  follow  the  'Squire  to  the  grave,  and  had 
tried  to  interest  them  in  procuring  places  for  all  the  old  servants. 

"  Cook  and  Dorothy  are  to  be  up  at  High-chase  House  ;  Jo- 
seph is  to  go  to  Crofthurst ;  Martin  coachman  is  going  there  too ; 
Ben  Dimble's  got  a  place  at  'Squire  Huntley's;  and  'Squire 
Acrcmead  has  taken  me.  So  you  see,  Miss  Kate,  no  need  to 
fret  about  us.  We're  well  provided  for,  you  sec.  All  you've 
got  to  do  now,  is  to  think  about  getting  on  well  yourself;  and 
keep  up,  for  the  sake  of  dear  old  master,  who'd  have  broke  hia 
heart  to  know  you'd  pine." 

"  I  shall  bear  up  bravely,  depend  on  it,  dear  good  Robert. 
God  bless  you  all,  and  good-bye." 

Kate's  last  visit  was  to  the  stable,  to  take  an  unwitnessed 
leave  of  the  horse  she  had  so  long  ridden — upon  which  she  had 
enjoyed  so  many  happy  rambles  with  her  uncle — and  of  the  one 
which  had  been  his  own  favourite.  White  Bess  and  Chestnut 
Phillis  were  hardly  less  objects  of  liking  than  had  th«-y  been  of 
her  own  race.  She  had  an  almost  human  and  individual  afi 
for  these  two  animals.  She  whispered  fondling  words  to  them, 
as  she  fed  them  for  the  last  time  from  her  hand,  and  pattc  ' 


554  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

glossy  throats,  aud  stroked  their  sleek  and  shining  flanks.  The 
gentle  creatures  seemed  to  understand  her  mournful  petting  sen- 
tences, and  to  respond,  in  their  own  dumb  fashion,  by  turning 
their  heads  round  to  hers,  as  she  leaned  against  their  shoulder 
and  at  last  fairly  flung  her  arms  about  the  neck  of  each,  in 
turn. 

When  at  last  she  came  forth  from  the  stable-door,  she  saw 
Ben  Dimble. 

"  I  knerc  you'd  come  to  see  the  horses  the  last  thing  afore 
you  went,  Miss  Kate,"  said  he,  in  a  husky  voice,  and  keeping  his 
eyes  fixed  upon  the  ground,  lest  he  should  see  by  hers  that  she 
was  crying.  "  I  knew  you'd  come  here,  so  I  waited." 

"  To  bid  me  good-bye  ?  Thank  you,  Ben.  And  I  was  in 
hopes  I  should  see  you,  Ben,  before  I  went,  to  ask  you  to  do 
something  for  me." 

"  Oh,  Miss  Kate,  that  is  kind  1  That  is  kind  of  you  to  think 
of !  "  And  Ben,  in  his  sudden  joy,  looked  up,  and  saw  that  his 
young  mistress  was  not  crying,  which  relieved  him  unspeakably 

"  Ben,  I  want  you  to  bring  me  down  my  trunk  to  the  village. 
It  is  all  ready  packed ;  but  I  should  like  you,  better  than  any 
body,  to  bring  it  away  for  me." 

"  Thank  you,  kindly,  Miss  Kate — thank  you  kindly.  And 
where  shall  I  find  you,  Miss  Kate  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  am  going  to  try  and  learn  whereabouts  my 
Matty  has  taken  lodgings.  I'm  afraid  I  didn't  behave  altoge- 
ther  " 

"  I  know  where  she  lodges  !  "  burst  in  Ben,  unable  to  contain 
himself.  «  She  lodges  with  Ruth  Field.  When  Ruth  Field's 
mother  died,  it  chanced  to  be  at  the  very  time  Mistress  Martha 
left  us.  And  just  as  Ruth  thought  she  must  give  up  her  cottage, 
as  she  couldn't  afford  to  keep  it  all  herself,  Mistress  Martha 
offered  to  come  to  her,  and  very  glad  they  both  were." 

"  And  who  may  Ruth  Field  be  ?  And  whereabouts  does  she 
live  ?!'  said  Kate. 

"  Not  know  Ruth  Field  ?  "  said  Ben,  reddening  to  scarlet 
'  You  saw  her  at  the  school-house  that  morning,  Miss  Kate  ;  and 


THI:  IKON  CM;  353 

f  ou  spoke  to  mo  about  her  when  you  caino  out ;  don't  you  re- 
member  ?  " 

"  I  remember,"  said  Kate. 

"She's  the  under-tcacher, — sub-monitress, — they  call  h«r. 
The  head-monitress  was  discharged  last  week  for  harsh  conduct, 
I  hear ;  and  they're  going  to  elect  a  new  one.  I  hope  she'll  be 
better  than  the  lust,  for — for  Ruth's  sake." 

"  You  seem  much  interested  in  this  Ruth,  Ben,"  smiled 
Kate.  "  You  seem  to  know  all  about  her  movements,  as  well 
as  all  those  that  affect  her." 

lien  looked  down.  "  I  knew  her  from  that  high,  Miss  Kato," 
he  .said  at  length,  twisting  his  hat  in  his  hand,  and  then  holding 
it  a  foot  or  two  from  the  ground.  "And  I've  always  known  lur 
good  ;  good,  when  she  was  strong  and  fresh-coloured,  and  straight ; 
good,  when  she  grew  weak  and  white,  and  bent" 

"  And  this  good,  mild  Ruth  Field  lives  in  the  cottage  ad- 
joining the  school-house  ?  And  my  Matty  lodges  with  her,  you 
say,  Ben?" 

"  Yes,  Miss  Kate ;  and  I  think  Ruth  takes  to  her  all  the 
more  kindly  and  likingly,  because  she's  bed-rid  ;  it  'minds  her 
of  her  own  mother,  who  lost  the  use  of  her  limbs,  and  kept  her 
bed  for  the  last  year  and  more  of  her  life." 

"  Bed-ridden  !  what  do  you  mean,  Ben  ?  "  said  Kate.  "  Vou 
surely  don't  mean  Matty  is  bed-ridden." 

"  But  I  do,  though,  Miss  Kate.  She  took  the  rheumatics 
very  bad,  after  leaving  the  old  Hall,  where  she  had  all  that  heart 
could  wish,  and  lived  well,  and  lay  warm,  like  any  lady  of  th« 
land.  Whether  it  was  the  sudden  change  from  our  fine  old  house 
t..  a  cottape,  I  can't  rightly  say;  but  bed-rid  she's  been  ever 
since,  poor  soul !  " 

-  My  poor   Mattykiu  !     This,   then,  was  the  reason— but 
Hill  M     !,,r  n.ys.lt.  "Ben,  I  may  rely  upon  you  to  oome  to  th< 
eoitapt  tomorrow  with  the  trunk?" 

-  It  >|i:ill  l,r   th.-n-  to-ni-ht,  Miss  Kate,"  said  Ben. 

Kate,  befow  ym  go,  I  know  you'll  bo  glad  to  hear  I'm  to 
be  at  Huutley  Lodge.— 'Squire  Huntley  promised  me,  to-day. 


356  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  I  heard  so,  Ben ;  I  rejoice  to  find  you'll  have  so  good  a 
place." 

"Ay,  Miss  Kate;  but  it's  not  that.  Good  place  or  bad 
place,  I  wouldn't  have  gone  to  it,  if  I  hadn't  known  that  'Squire 
Huntley  is  to  buy  all  master's  horses.  Wherever  they  went,  I 
meant  to  go,  if  it  was  in  the  power  of  mortal  man  to  do  it. 
Whatever  became  of  White  Bess  and  Chestnut  Phillis,  I  must 
ha'  followed  'em,  and  tried  to  ha1  been  groom  to  'em  still." 

"  I'm  truly  glad  to  think  that  they  have  both  fallen  to  one 
master,  who  is  also  to  be  yours,  Ben.  I  needn't  say,  take  care 
of  them,  Ben.  I  know  you  love  them  both,  as  dearly  as  I  do." 

"  Nobody  can  love  'em  better,  Miss  Kate.  I'd  give  up  my 
own  dinner,  any  day,  to  be  sure  that  they  had  theirs,  poor 
beasts." 

And  as  Kate  Ireton  turned  to  go,  Ben  went  into  the  stable. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

KATE  did  not  proceed  by  the  avenue,  but  struck  across  the  park 
lawns.  The  avenue  was  the  approach  from  the  carriage-road  to 
the  village ;  while  the  one  she  took  was  a  foot-path  little  fre- 
quented, that  led  by  some  fields  a  shorter  and  pleasanter  way. 
The  dusty  road,  the  steep  hilly  descent,  the  public  thoroughfare, 
were  instinctively  avoided ;  while  the  grassy  park  glades,  the 
sloping  meadows,  the  quiet  river-side  walk,  where  there  was 
little  chance  of  encountering  any  oue,  afforded  attractive  ex- 
change. 

Kate  Ireton  involuntarily  lingered  in  the  precincts  that  had 
BO  long  been  home-ground  to  her.  The  afternoon  had  melted 
into  one  of  those  delicious  balmy  evenings,  when  a  dewy  fresh- 
ness mingles  with  the  soft  golden  light  that  rests  upon  turf  and 
tree,  blending  all  into  one  shining  haze  of  beauty  and  repose. 


THE    IRON    CObSm.  357 

The  deer  lifted  their  graceful  heads  from  amid  the  fern,  to  note 
tlu:  passing  figure;  watching  her.  shyly  with  their  largo  lustrous 
eyes,  yet  scarcely  pausing  in  their  laxy  ruminant  chcwings. 
There  was  stillness  in  the  air,  unbroken,  save  by  the  lowing  of 
the  distant  herds,  or  the  querulous  fold-ward  note  of  the  flocks, 
or  the  liquid  whistle  of  a  blackbird  that  sang  his  flute-like  hymn 
of  farewell  to  parting  day,  from  a  neighbouring  copse.  All 
things  were  blandly  lapped  in  a  peaceful  calm,  a  tranquil  rest 
ined  the  fitting  close  to  her  past  existence — her  life  of 
prosperous  enjoyment,  of  undisturbed  content,  of  unalloyed  hap- 
piness. She  turned  to  look  for  the  last  time  upon  the  old  Hall, 
its  picturesque  gables,  and  oddly-angled  roof;  its  clock-house, 
offices  and  stables ;  its  glittering  vane  and  white  dove-cot :  ita 
green  clustered  door-ways,  and  trelliscd  walls,  shone  roseate- 
touched  and  gilded  ;  while  its  many  windows — one  for  each  day 
in  the  year,  after  the  fashion  of  some  old  English  mansions — 
sparkled  resplendent  in  the  reflected  glory  of  the  western  light. 
Tin-  sun  shed  its  full  departing  radiance  upon  the  scene  of  her 
departed  joys. 

With  a  swelling  heart,  Kate  resumed  her  way.  As  she  came 
to  the  sheltered  lane,  forming  the  boundary  enclosure  on  that 
side  of  the  demesne,  she  paused,  and  leaned  upon  the  stile  be- 
neath the  nut  boughs.  A  half-sad,  half-tender  expression  came 
into  her  face,  as  she  remembered  how  she  had  onco  leaned  upon 
this  stile — when  she  was  compelled  to  stand  upon  its  step,  to  re«t 
her  arms  upon  the  top— and  how  she  had  looked  down  into  the 
lane,  where  sat  a  boy  on  horseback,  with  handsome  eyes  and 
irruvf  smile,  and  penetrating  voice,  and  striking  foreign  drew, 
and  still  more  striking  figure  and  noble  air,  looking  up  at  her, 
and  talking  to  her  in  that  strain  of  quiet,  involuntary,  conscious 
superiority,  which  her  spirit  had  never  since  been  able  to  deny, 
ever  since  engaged  in  attempting  to  resist.  Against  the 
which  the  eyes,  the  smile,  the  voice,  the  air,  made  to  her 
tenses  and  imagination,  Kate  even  yet  resolutely  and  stedfaatly 
set  herself  to  withstand  ;  and  she  murmured,  <:  It  shall  not  he- 
it  »i  Kit  net  be ;  now,  less  than  ever  1 " 


358  THE    IRON    COtJSm. 

But  against  the  influence  of  that  inwardly  acknowledged 
superiority,  her  heart,  her  mind,  her  sense,  her  better  feeling- 
better  feeling  born  of  suffering  and  sorrow — did  not  now  endea- 
vour to  steel  themselves.  In  this  sacredly-still  moment — when 
alone  with  her  own  soul,  and  standing,  as  it  were,  on  the  confines 
of  a  past  period,  and  on  the  brink  of  a  future  one — Kate  Iroton 
allowed  her  spirit  to  admit  the  full  superiority  of  him  she  singled 
out  from  the  rest  of  mankind.  She  permitted  herself  to  dwell 
upon  that  noble  rectitude,  that  constancy  of  honour,  that  un- 
swerving, unflinching,  invincible  regard  for  truth,  and  justice,  and 
right,  at  which  she  had  always  outwardly  scoffed,  while  most  in 
secret  revering.  As  she  mused  on  all  that  had  passed  between 
herself  and  the  Iron  Cousin,  since  they  had  first  met  as  children 
at  that  very  spot,  some  of  the  Iron  Cousin's  right  strength  of 
character  seemed  to  pass  into  her  own,  fortifying  and  invigorat- 
ing its  best  points,  curbing  and  controlling  its  waywardness  and 
impetuosity,  steadying  and  rendering  consistent  its  worthiest  im- 
pulses. Her  eye  chancing  to  fall  on  the  iron  clasp  of  the  brace- 
let, which  never  quitted  her  arm,  she  thought  of  all  Fermor's  fre- 
quent patience  with  her,  his  untiring  forbearance,  his  unfailing 
temper.  She  remembered  how  (at  the  very  time  she  chose  that 
clasp — when  by  petulant  speech,  and  fleering  taunt,  and  harsh, 
galling,  insolent-sounding  words,  she  had  sought  to  conceal  the 
sentiment  which  prompted  the  choice  of  its  material)  he  had 
borne  with  her  ungraciousness,  had  silently,  patiently,  and  unre- 
proachfully  submitted  to  it,  even  while  showing  by  the  firm-set 
lip,  and  grave  shade  of  countenance,  how  deeply  it  hurt  him. 
There  was  always  something  in  the  quiet  dignity  of  Fermor'e 
tacit  reproof  which  impressed  and  haunted  Kate,  long  after  she 
had  succeeded  in  apparently  throwing  off  its  effect. 

Then  came  into  her  mind  what  he  had  subsequently  said, 
when  her  rudeness  and  bluffness  to  her  guest  had  forced  re- 
buke from  him ;  yet,  even  then,  as  it  seemed,  chiefly  impelled 
by  regard  for  her  character,  and  regret  to  see  her  behave 
unworthily. 

"  Yet—'  not  pleasant  to  live  with  ! '     'Twas  bitter  !  " 


THE   IRON    COUSIN.  359 

She  buried  her  face  in  her  hands,  as  if  to  bide  tbe  hot  blushes 
that  burnt  upon  her  cheek,  while  recalling  those  words ;  and  as 
if  she  would  shut  out  the  look,  the  tone,  which  accompanied 
them — serious,  yet  deeply  grieved  ;  severe,  but  more  profoundly 
pained. 

"  He  must  despise  me — utterly  disapprove  and  disregard 
me,"  she  thought,  in  her  bitterness  of  heart  "  Did  he  not  leave 
us  ?  Did  he  not  withdraw  from  the  society  of  one  whose  quali- 
ties he  could  not  like,  and  would  not  vainly  try  to  amend  ?  But, 
be  it  so ;  since  this  reverse  of  fortune  has  chanced,  I  am  content 
it  should  be  thus.  If — this  place  my  home,  this  fair  spot  the 
same  as  mine  own — I  would  not  have  had  him  dream  I  held 
other  thoughts  than  those  I  seemed  to  entertain,  still  less  now 

shall  he  guess  that  ever "      Even  in  self-communion  she 

would  not  let  the  secret  take  shape  and  substance,  but  went 
rapidly  on  to  another  idea.  "  What  was  it  else  he  said  ?  That 
'  Kate  might  be  anything  she  wills  to  be.'  If  I  were  to  set  that 
sentence  before  me,  as  my  guiding-star  henceforth — if  I  were  to 
make  its  import  my  rule,  its  purpose  my  aim — it  were  a  noble 
ambition  !  One  worthy  the  Iron  Cousin's  worthless  cousin  ! 
Yet,  once  he  said  she  was  '  not  worthless ; '  nay,  '  was  well  worth 
any  pains.'  ''  And  one  of  her  old  smiles  gleamed  in  Kate's  eyes 
as  she  found  herself  recalling  so  many  of  his  words,  and  perceived 
how  vividly  they  dwelt  in  her  memory,  especially  where  the  words 
stt  incd  to  betoken  regard.  Yet  as  she  smiled,  she  coloured. 
This  craving  to  possess  Fermor's  esteem  and  liking,  yet  sensi- 
tively shrinking  from  its  evidence,  was  one  of  Kate's  peculiar 
characteristics. 

"  Let  me  remember  one  more  of  the  Iron  Cousin's  sentences," 
pursued  she,  "  which  shall  help  me  to  put  in  force  the  other. 
'  Distasteful  things  done  for  conscience  sake  become  remembered 
pleasures/  I  am  unwilling  to  leave  this  spot ;  I  am  reluctant  to 
break  up  this  train  of  thought ;  but  I  am  conscious  that  I  ought 
to  do  both,  bravely  and  resolutely,  if  Kate  would  commence  her 
1  willing  to  be  what  she  ought  to  be.'  No  more  lingering, 
fore  ;  no  more  musing.  Life  must  be  a  sturdy,  active,  onw»H 


360  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

progress  with  me  now.  Let  me  take  my  way  at  once  ;  this  stile, 
my  first  obstacle  overcome  ;  the  bowery  lane,  my  first  limit 
crossed ;  that  footpath,  my  appointed  course ;  the  shining  river 
yonder,  a  bright  guiding  line  ;  and  my  village  home  with  dear 
old  Mattykin,  a  goal  and  refuge." 


Kate  Ireton  entered  the  cottage  porch,  and  lifted  the  latch  ; 
the  door,  like  those  of  many  country  dwellings,  usually  standing 
open,  or,  if  closed,  unfastened.  She  found  no  one  in  the  little  par- 
lour, which  was  plain  in  the  extreme,  but  neat  and  clean  to 
precision.  The  house  was  in  perfect  silence ;  no  one  seemed 
within. 

Kate  went  to  the  latticed  casement  at  the  side  of  the  room, 
which  looked  on  the  stony  yard  or  play-ground  of  the  adjoining 
school-house,  and  she  could  hear  the  hum  of  children's  busy 
voices  through  the  open  windows  opposite.  There  was  but  one 
other  room  on  the  ground-floor  of  the  cottage — a  kitchen,  clean 
and  neat  as  the  parlour,  with  a  kettle  singing  on  the  hob,  and 
tea-things  ready  laid  on  the  snow-white  dresser.  A  small  stair- 
case, so  steep  and  narrow  as  to  be  like  that  of  a  ship's  cabin — 
led  to  the  bed-rooms  above.  Kate  went  softly  up,  and  found 
Matty  propped  amid  pillows,  diligently  knitting. 

"  Mattykin  ! " 

"  My  darling  Miss  Kate  !  My  own  dear,  darling  child  ! 
Come  her  own  sweet  self  to  see  her  poor  old  nurse,  since  she 
can't  crawl  to  her  !  " 

"  My  poor  Mattykin,  I  have  only  just  learned  your  state ; 
and  here  have  I  been  accusing  you  in  my  heart  of  unkindness, 
and  unrelentingness,  and  I  know  not  what  cruel,  unjust  things, 
for  not  coming  to  see  your  naughty,  spoiled  child,  and  forgiving 
her  in  her  trouble,  and  all  the  while  you  could  not  move  !  But  this 
is  not  the  only  injustice  I  have  to  ask  pardon  for ;  I  was  harsh, 
imperious,  and  shamefully  ungrateful  to  you,  in  forgetting,  at  the 
moment  you  vexed  me,  all  you  had  done  for  me,  and  had  been 


.THE   IRON    COUSIN.  361 

to  me,  and  suffering  you  to  go  away  without  « kissing,  and  mat 
ing  it  up,'  as  we  used,  when  I  was  a  fractious,  wilful  child. 
However,  dear  Matty,  I  cannot  better  prove  my  sincere  repent- 
ance, and  my  sense  of  your  greater  goodness  and  indulgence, 
than  by  coming  to  you  in  my  sorrow  and  poverty.  I  am  come 
to  ask  you  for  a  home,  Matty ;  I  am  come  to  ask  you  to  be  a 
mother  to  your  poor  orphan  girl ;  I  am  come  to  be  a  dutiful, 
loving  child  to  you,  if  you  will  let  me — if  you  will  have  me." 

••  My  dear,  dear  Miss  Kate  !  my  own  generous-hearted  dar- 
ling !  Just  one  of  your  kind,  clever  thoughts,  how  you  might 
best  please  your  old  Mattykin." 

Then  they  fell  into  softer,  graver  talk,  while  they  spoke  of 
Iiim  they  had  lost — the  kind  master — the  loving  uncle:  and  then, 
after  a  pause,  Kate  made  Matty  tell  her  of  Ruth  Field,  of  her 
goodness,  her  gentleness,  her  simple,  quiet,  virtuous  ways. 

"  In  short,  she's  as  pious  and  still  as  a  quakeress,  yet  as 
active  and  useful  as  a  penny-postman  or  a  milk-maid,"  said 
Matty,  in  conclusion.  "Hark!  I  hear  the  latch.  That  must 
be  she.  School's  over  by  this  time,  and  then  Ruth  comes  home 
to  tea ;  and  a  pleasant,  cheerful,  cosy  meal  she  makes  of  it,  for 
us  two." 

"  For  us  three,  I  hope,  now  ! "  said  Kate.  "  I'll  go  down 
and  meet  her,  and  ask  her  to  let  me  be  one  of  your  snug  little 
Innisi-liold  in  future." 

"  A  strange  lady  ! "  exclaimed  Ruth,  in  her  subdued  but 
earnest  voice,  as  she  saw  the  vision  of  beautiful  Kate  Ireton 
descending  the  staircase,  and  coming  straight  into  the  bright. 
rural  kitchen. 

"  A  stranger  to  you,  Ruth ;  but  you  are  no  stranger  to  me. 
I  have  heard  so  many  delightful  things  of  you,  that  I  seem  to 
know  you  quite  well,  quite  intimately.  I  hope  you  will  let  me 
bo  much  more  intimate,  that  you  will  let  me  live  with  you ;  that 
vou  will  take  me  into  this  pleasant  cottage  of  yours,  and  let  me 
chare  your  home  and  your  kindness  with  my  Matty." 

"You  arc  Miss  Ireton!"  said  Ruth,  with  a  look  full  of 
1,  irrepressible  »dnuif*tion 


362  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  Yes  ;  that  is — I  am  Kate  Ireton  to  you,  as  you  are  Ruth 
Field  to  me.  Shall  it  not  be  so  ?  " 

The  two  young  girls  clasped  hands  with  a  silent  warmth  that 
spoke  their  several  sincere,  direct,  ingenuous  natures. 

"  And  now,  dear  Ruth,  to  show  me  that  I  may  at  once  con- 
sider myself  at  home,  let  me  untie  your  bonnet,  and  take  your 
shawl,  and  see  you  sit  down  in  that  chair,  \vhile  I  make  tea,  and 
get  all  ready  to  carry  up  to  Matty,  as  I  hear  you  so  kindly  do 
every  day.  What  a  tea-party  she  will  have  this  evening  !  " 

"  But  I  cannot  let  you  do  all  this,"  said  Ruth,  as  Kate  with 
housewifely  alacrity,  bustled  to  and  fro  in  her  preparations  for 
the  meal,  after  placing  Ruth  comfortably  in  a  seat,  and  chatting 
cheerfully  the  while,  about  the  neatness  and  order  of  her  pretty 
cottage-kitchen. 

"  Why  not  ?  Do  you  know,  I'm  terribly  accustomed  to  do 
as  I  like ;  and  I  like  to  see  you  resting  there  after  your  long 
day's  toil  among  that  rabble  of  school-children,  which,  I'm  sure, 
must  be  enough  to  weary  out  the  stoutest  spirits.  And  I  like  to 
wait  upon  you,  and  feel  that  I  can  make  myself  useful ;  you 
don't  know  what  a  luxury  that  is  to  one  who  has  led  an  idle 
young-lady  life.  And  I  like  immensely  to  find  myself  once  more 
doing  something  to  please  my  Mattykin,  in  return  for  all  her 
goodness  and  devotion  to  me.  And  now,  I'm  sure  you  would 
not  wish  to  thwart  me  in  all  these  likings  of  mine,  would  you, 
Ruth?" 

Ruth  smiled — her  own  soft,  quiet  smile.  She,  like  all  the 
rest,  was  beginning  to  feel  the  influence  of  Kate  Ireton's  fasci- 
nation. 

While  Kate,  as  she  looked  at  Ruth,  found  herself  thinking : — 
"  He  was  right ;  the  expression  of  her  face  is  '  positively  beau- 
tiful.' And  now,  if  you  approve,  we'll  join  Matty,"  she  added 
aloud.  "  Here,  Ruth,  you  carry  the  loaf  and  the  butter,  and  I'll 
sarry  the  tea-tray." 

"  Carry  it  end-ways,  or  you'll  not  manage  to  get  it  up  the 
eiaircase,"'  answered  Ruth's  mild  voice. 

"  Now  Matty,  you  are  going  to  do  the  honours  of  the  table, 


THE    I  ROM    COTJfclW.  303 

while  I  pour  out  the  tea.  and  cut  the  bread  and  butter ;  and 
Ruth  is  to  sit  there  and  be  qoiet,  while  we  talk  and  amuse  her ; 
she  must  be  content  to  give  up  playing  the  mistress  of  the  house, 
or  mistress  at  all,  after  school-hours;  quiet  and  rest  are  better 
than  dignity,  when  all  day's  been  spent  ruling  an  unruly  herd." 

"  Ruth  says  they're  not  so  very  unruly,  poor  things  !  Chil- 
dren will  be  children,  after  all,"  said  Matty.  "  To  be  sure, 
.she  makes  the  best  of  everything  ;  even  noisy  little  torments  she 
makes  out  to  be  not  so  bad,  if  they're  reasoned  with,  and  talked 
to." 

"  The  most  troublesome  child  may  be  made  more  docile  by 
patience,"  said  Ruth ;  "  the  most  giddy,  the  most  mischievous, 
the  most  sulky,  the  most  obstinate  may  be  taught  better,  if  you 
have  but  sufficient  patience.  The  only  thing  with  children,  is 
never  to  lose  your  patience  or  your  temper." 

"  Very  difficult  to  preserve  either,  in  dealing  with  them,  when 
they  are  really  troublesome,"  said  Kate. 

"  Not  so  much  so  as  you  might  imagine,  perhaps,"  said  Ruth. 
"  The  thought  that  they  are  ignorant,  that  they  err  more  from 
this  than  from  wilful  misbehaviour,  that  you  have  to  forgive  them 
seven  times  in  a  day,  if  seven  times  in  a  day  they  repent,  and  to 
forgive  them,  chiefly,  for  that  they  know  not  what  they  do,  will 
be  a  sufficient  guard  upon  yourself;  and  once  children  find  you 
i .-apulile  of  self  control,  they  insensibly  learn  to  curb  themselves." 

"  The  most  formidable  things  you  must  have  to  contend  with, 
Ruth,  are  the  perpetual  din  and  clamour  of  tongues,  the  close  con- 
finement, and  the  want  of  fresh  air,"  said  Kate. 

"  It  is  curious  how  you  may  become  accustomed  to  the  mo»t 
unpleasant  things,  by  patience,  by  habit,  and  by  comparing  them 
with  still  worse,'  answered  Ruth.  "The  recollection  that  the 
)f  a  factory, — the  buzz  of  wheels  and  machinery, — is  worte 
than  the  hum  of  young  voices :  the  thought  that  many  innocent 
persons  have  been  pent  in  narrow  dungeons  for  years ;  the  re- 
nifiuliruM-e  that  hundreds  of  people  of  their  own  will,  undergo  a 
•lightly  stifling  in  the  foul,  noisome  air  of  a  gas-lighted  theatre, 
or  crowded  assembh  '  1'  '"esc  few  hourt  a  day  «hu» 


364  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

up  in  a  school-room.  Besides,  I  am  only  too  glad  to  have  them 
I  wished  for  the  situation  particularly,  as  one  I  could  fill,  and  one 
which  would  give  me  the  means  of  earning  an  honest  livelihood." 

A  thought  darted  into  the  mind  of  Kate  Iretou. 

"  I  have  heard  a  report  that  the  office  of  uionitress  is  vacant. 
Is  it  so  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  it  has  been  unfilled  these  last  ten  days  ;  I  have  dis- 
charged the  duties  as  well  as  I  can,  meantime ;  but  I  hear  there 
will  be  some  difficulty  in  supplying  Mrs.  Burgess's  place,  although 
she  did  not  satisfy  the  majority  of  the  Directors.  Dr.  Meadows 
was  at  the  head  of  those  who  objected  to  her,  and  was  eventually 
the  means  of  her  being  discharged." 

"  Then  Dr.  Meadows  is  one  of  the  board  of  Directors  ?  " 

"  Yes,  the  chief, — the  most  actively  influential  among  them." 

"  It  would  be  an  admirable  means  of  carrying  out  my  project 
of  independence !  "  was  Kate's  inward  reflection.  "  Yet,  the  noise, 
the  constraint,  the  toilsome  work, — above  all,  that  '  poor  smell !  ' 
Hateful  points  knowingly  to  encounter.  But  then,  are  not  'dis- 
tasteful things,  undertaken  for  conscience  sake,  remembered  plea- 
sures ? '  And  would  it  not  be  a  pleasure  to  me,  to  secure  this  in- 
dependent course,  wherein  to  '  will'  Kate  into  being  something 
better  than  she  has  been  ?  " 

"  You  know  Dr.  Meadows,  do  you  not  ?  "  lluth  said. 

"  Yes,  he  is  one  of  my  best,  my  kindest,  friends;  I  am  going 
to  call  upon  him  the  first  thing  to-morrow  morning,  to  consult  with 
him  upon  my  future  plans." 

"  By  the  bye,"  said  Matty,  suddenly,  "  how  will  you  manage, 
Miss  Kate,  my  darling,  for  want  of  proper  dress  ?  Mourning,  I 
know,  requires  little  change  still  you  must  have " 

"  I  shall  do  very  well,  dear,  thoughtful  Mattykiu ;  my  ward- 
robe, such  as  it  is — for  I  mean  to  be  a  mirror  of  economy — is  to 
be  here  to  night.  That  good  fellow,  Ben  Dimble,  promised  to 
bring  it  for  me.  He  it  was,  who  told  me  so  many  things  of  you, 
that  made  me  know  and  love  you,  Ruth,"  she  added  looking  at  her 
as  she  spoke. 

She  saw  the  pale  face  change  colour.     She  saw  a  tint  like  a 


THE    IKON    COUSIN.  365 

blush-rose  steal  over  the  mild,  pensive  features.    The  bent  head,  the 
gentle  expression,  the  soft  hue,  brought  to  her  mind  the  thought 
'  Yes.  he  was  right ;  it  is  like  one  of  Kaffaclle's  sainted  heads.' 

A  moment  after  Kate  heard  the  latch  lifted,  and  a  man's  step 
upon  the  threshold.  Exclaiming :  "  That's  Ben  ! "  she  ran  down 
stairs  to  receive  him,  and  thank  him. 

After  he  had  brought  in  the  trunk,  and  had  placed  it  for  her 
in  a  little  nook  she  pointed  out  to  him,  where  it  might  not  be  in 
tho  way,  Kate  saw  Ben  sast  a  wistful,  lingering  look  around, 
whilo  preparing  to  go. 

"  Do  not  be  in  a  hurry,  Ben ;  I  dare  say  Ruth  will  be  down 
in  a  moment." 

"  I  don't  think  she  will,  Miss  Kate,"  answered  he,  with  a 
sort  of  sigh,  as  he  turned  his  hat  round  and  round  in  his  hands. 
"  No  so  long  as  I'm  here.  I  never  see  her  but  chance-wise. 
She  never  conies  where  I  am,  knowingly ;  it  hurts  her  kind 
heart,  to  see  one  that  she  can't  feel  towards,  as  he  feels  to  her. 
I'm  used  to  it  now.  But  perhaps,  Miss  Kate," — and  he  bright- 
ened,— "  you'll  like  to  hear  how  White  Bess  and  Chestnut  Phillis 
s»re  going  on,  from  time  to  time ;  and  then  I  might  happen 
to " 

"  Yes,  Ben,  yes  ;  I  shall  very  much  wish  to  have  news  of 
them.  Therefore  mind  you  bring  me  word,  the  first  time  you  can 
get  away,  and  come  over  here." 

"  Thank  ye  kindly,— kindly,— Miss  Kate." 

And  Ben  was  gone. 


CHAPTEK  XL. 

morning,  Kate  Ircton  was  up  with  the  lark.  She 
menced  hor  new  existence  with  an  energy  and  impulse  nntnral  to 
her  character,  enhanced  by  her  present  purpose,  and  encouraged 
as  a  heln  to  sustain  the  weight  that  sat  at  her  heart  for  her  un- 


366  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

clc's  loss.  It  lay  there,  heavy,  and  dull,  and  sad ;  but  deep  aud 
sacred — a  regret  apart — not  to  be  allowed  to  rise  and  overwhelm 
hopefuller  thoughts  and  aims,  which  might  render  her  worthy  on« 
day  to  rejoin  him. 

She  had  always  been  an  early  riser ;  and  now  she  rejoiced  in 
a  habit  which  gave  her  so  main  an  advantage  in  her  future  life 
of  diligence  and  self-dependence. 

She  felt  an  almost  childlike  glee  in  finding  herself  so  much 
beforehand  with  Ruth  Field,  who  had  not  yet  come  down,  al- 
though it  was  the  hour  for  breakfast. 

But  when  time  still  went  on,  and  Kate  knew  that  school-hour 
would  arrive  in  another  forty  minutes,  she  resolved  to  go  into 
Ruth's  room  and  call  her. 

She  tapped  softly,  and  went  in.  The  young  girl  lay  buried 
in  a  profound  sleep.  The  lameness,  and  defective  figure,  were 
hidden  by  the  recumbent  attitude  :  only  the  fair  head — with  its 
light  brown  hair  escaped  from  the  muslin  cap,  and  the  cheek 
slightly  flushed  with  slumber — was  visible  ;  and  again  Kate  Ire- 
ton  was  struck  with  the  soft,  resigned,  llafiaellesque  expression. 
For  the  sake  of  him  who  had  said  this,  Kate  could  not  refrain 
from  bending  down,  and  gently  kissing  the  delicate  check, 

Kate  had  never  had  any  companion- friend  of  her  own  sex  and 
age ;  and  her  heart  warmed  to  this  good,  gentle  girl,  whose  sim- 
ple worth,  and  sincerity  of  character  and  manner,  peculiarly  at- 
tracted her. 

At  the  caressing  touch,  Ruth  awoke. 

"  I  was  dreaming  of  mother,"  she  said  ;  "  I  thought  she  was 
near  me,  and  kissed  me."  Then  recollecting  herself,  as  her  eyes 
fell  upon  Kate  Ireton,  she  started  up,  saying  :  "  I  have  overslept 
myself;  I  fear  it  is  very  late.  You  have  been  unhelped,  unat- 
tended to.  How  could  I  have  so  missed  the  hour.  But  I  could 
not  get  to  sleep  last  night,  in  the  excitement  of  seeing  you, — of 
your  coming;  and  this  morning,  when  I  should  have  been  up, 
I —  Forgive  me,  pray.  I  cannot  forgive  myself." 

"  But  you  must  forgive  yourself,  or  I  shall  not  forgive  you  , 
and  there  is  really  nothing  to  be  forgiven,"  said  Kate,  playfully. 


THE   IRON   COUSIN.  36? 

'*  Do  you  know,  I  am  delighted  to  have  had  this  few  hours'  gain 
apon  you  ;  it  makes  me  feel  §o  virtuous,  to  have  been  earlier  up 
than  the  school-monitress  herself !  Let  me  fasten  this  button  for 
you.  And  now,  come  down  as  soon  as  yon  please ;  you  will  find 
breakfast  quite  ready  for  us  two  below.  Matty  has  had  hers,  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  since." 

AV  hen  Ruth  entered  the  little  parlour,  Kate's  eyes  sparkled 
to  see  the  look  of  admiring  surprise  she  threw  around. 

"  Why,  you  have  tranformed  the  place  into  a  fairy-queen's 
bower  !  How  can  you  have  done  all  this?  In  so  short  a  time, 
too  !  It  is  like  magic  !  Aladdin's  palace  !  You  must  have  had 
invisible  hands  to  help  you.  How  could  you  manage  it  ?  " 

"  By  getting  up  at  dawn,  and,  as  you  say,  by  having  elvish 
aid.  The  little  good-folk, — the  fays, — the  fairies, — have  been 
here.  That  arch-sprite,  Puck,  for  once,  did  no  mischief;  instead 
of  skimming  the  milk  of  its  cream,  he  put  it  in  the  jug  for  me, 
and  filled  the  kettle  with  fresh  water  from  the  well,  and  lighted 
the  fire,  and  set  the  tea-cups  and  saucers,  and  in  short,  made 
good  his  title  to  his  other  name,  of  Robin  Goodfellow,  doing  all 
the  scullionry  in  the  kitchen,  while  Titania  and  I  decked  the  par- 
lour. Obcron,  on  this  occasion,  gave  up  his  forester-sport  with 
the  '  morning's  love,'  Cephalus,  and  brought  in  boughs  for  us,  you 
see." 

The  cottage-parlour  was  indeed  turned  into  an  elegant  room. 
The  latticed  casement  was  snowily  draped  with  a  long  white  mus- 
lin scarf,  fastened  in  the  centre,  and  drawn  on  either  side.  Green 
branches,  from  the  few  shrubs  and  trees  that  skirted  the  stony 
play  ground,  were  placed  on  the  mantel  shelf,  drooping  gracefully 
from  the  three  or  four  glasses  which  the  cottage  afforded ;  while 
other*  were  arranged,  with  shorter  stalks,  in  a  couple  of  deep 
plat.--,  upon  the  white  breakfast-cloth.  On  the  small  deal  side- 
table  was  spread  an  Indian-patterned  shawl-kerchief  as  a  eim-r  ; 
and  on  this  were  ran.ir«-«l  Kite's  books,  rich  in  morocco  covert, 
;.lt-.i  l.in.lii.-,  and  all  the  iimninc-enee  of  ornament  that  af- 
iWtum  h.ves  to  lavish  upon  gift-volumes.  Among  these,  lay  Uw 
Fl'.reutine  i\ M-  riding  whip ;  and  over  all,  was  hung  tfco 

Italian  sketch. 


368  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

Ruth's  eyes  could  not  cease  from  drinking  in  all  those  objects 
which  seemed  to  convert  the  cottage  room  into  a  home-templa 
They  brought  a  light,  an  atmosphere  of  taste,  and  artistic  grace, 
and  elevating  refinement  into  the  dwelling,  yet  without  marring 
its  own  neat  and  simple  charm. 

"  Beautiful !  beautiful !  "  was  all  Ruth  Field  could  repeat. 

"  Dear  Ruth,  if  you  could  only  know  the  ecstacy  it  gives  mo 
to  see  your  innocent  pleasure,  you  would  understand  how  de- 
lightfully you  fulfil  the  promise  my  imagination  made  me  while 
I  was  busied  with  this.  But  we  must  not  forget  how  time  flies, 
while  we  are  enjoying  ourselves.  Look  here  !  "  And  she  smil- 
ingly held  her  watch  before  Ruth's  eyes. 

"  School-hour  !  And  no  breakfast-table  cleared  ;  and  no  din- 
ner prepared  !  Nothing  done,  nothing  thought  of !  "  And  Ruth 
clasped  her  hands,  in  desperate  self-blame. 

"  It  shall  be  attended  to.  You  go  to  your  school  duties. 
Leave  all  to  me.  Remember  I  am  housekeeper  now.  Self- 
elected  ;  and,  therefore,  despotic,  irresponsible,  not  to  be  ap- 
pealed from." 

"  But  I  cannot  have  you  do  all  this — this  drudgery,"  said 
Ruth,  as  Kate  alertly  set  about  carrying  the  breakfast  things 
from  the  room,  and  began  to  wash  them  up,  in  the  little  kitchen. 

"  My  dear  Ruth,  don't  be  a  ceremonious  simpleton,  but  be- 
gone to  your  teaching,  and  leave  me  to  do  as  I  like.  You  for- 
get that  this  is  all  play-work  to  me,  like  doll's  house-keeping,  or 
acting  a  comedy  of  housewifery.  It  has  all  the  charm  of  novelty 
and  holiday  sport,  with  the  dear  delight  of  fancying  myself  use- 
ful." 

"  But  it  will  be  so  strange — so  unaccustomed — you  will  not 
know  what  to  do." 

"  Don't  make  me  out  quite  such  an  awkward  ignoramus.  Be- 
sides, if  I  should  be  at  a  loss,  haven't  I  Matty  to  apply  to  ? 
She'll  tell  me  all  about  marketing,  all  about  cookery.  Go,  go ! 
and  when  you  come  back,  you  shall  find  dinner  ready,  with  some 
'  savoury  mess '  prepared,  that  only  '  the  neat-handed  Phillis,' 
or  your  new  housekeeper,  Kate  Ireton,  could  possibly  havn 
achieved." 


THK    IKON   COUSIN.  369 

When  Kate's  household  duties  were  all  performed,  she  rat 
up  and  bade  Matty  goodbye  for  an  hour  or  two,  that  she  might 
pay  her  visit  to  the  vicarage. 

She  found  good  Dr.  Meadows  in  his  study,  preparing  hia 
next  Sunday's  discourse.  But  he  put  away  his  writing,  and 
gave  her  his  clear  thought  and  undivided  attention. 

She  entreated  his  assistance  in  her  plan  of  future  industry 
and  self-reliance ;  and  mentioned  the  situation  of  monitress  as 
one  which  afforded  precisely  the  opportunity  she  sought  of  earn- 
ing a  competence  for  herself  and  Matty. 

"  The  salary,  added  to  the  sum  I  may  reckon  upon  through 
Mr.  Weldon's  kind  provision,  will  amply  suffice  for  our  joint 
wants,"  she  said  ;  "  and  I  shall  then  have  the  hope  that  our  living 
with  Ruth  Field  will  be  a  mutual  advantage.  I  hear  that  in 
you,  dear  sir,  lies  the  chief  power  to  bestow  this  situation.  You 
will  not  refuse  to  give  me  your  support,  and  induce  the  other 
gentlemen  to  confirm  your  nomination  !  " 

•  My  dear  girl,  if  it  rested  with  me,  be  assured  you  should 
imt  have  long  to  plead.  Both  for  the  school-children's  sake,  and 
in  furtherance  of  your  own  worthy  project,  I  could  not  hesitate 
a  moment — I  could  not  wish  better.  But  there  are  many  things 
to  be  considered.  A  canvass  is  indispensable.  There  will  be 
the  expense  of  cards,  the  fatigue — the  disagreeable  of  personal 
application,  of  suing  for  votes,  and  for  influence.  Not  only  have 
the  whole  Board  of  Directors  to  be  applied  to,  but  the  suffrages 
of  the  parishioners  have  to  be  obtained.  I  greatly  fear — I  do 
imt  think,  that " 

"  The  necessary  expenses  can  be  defrayed  by  disposing  of  my 
wat-li,  if  requisite,"  interrupted  Kate,  eagerly ;  "and  as  for  fe 
tiL'u--  and  disagreeable,  I  am  prepared  to  encounter  those." 

Nay,  nay,"  smiled  the  vicar  ;  "  for  the  watch,  you  must  nm 
pnrt  with  that ;  you  will  find  it  too  useful,  too  necessary,  in  your 

'.-life.     The"  cards  shall  be  my  care  ;  they  shall  be  n 
tribution  to  your  encU-av.mr.     But  the  other  point  offers  a  far 
more  formidable  obsta« •!••.      Vou  have  the  name— forgive  n 
dear  !-  of  being  n  young  lady  of  some— some— in  short,  of  baring 


370  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

a  high  spirit  of  your  own.  And  that  is  not  exactly  the  thing  to 
go  canvassing  with." 

"  Why  not  ?  Where's  the  use  of  high  spirit  but  to  carry  us 
through  difficulties  ?  It  will  enable  me  to  face  them  ;  it  will  bo 
a  spur,  a  stimulus,  a  support  to  me." 

"  Ay,  a  spur,  a  stimulus ;  but,  I  fear,  not  a  support.  A  spur 
serves  to  urge  you  on  ;  a  stimulus  excites,  but  does  not  strength- 
en. Beware  of  trusting  to  such  false  forces.  You  may  com- 
mence with  good  courage ;  but  it  may  droop  ;  when  you  find  you 
have  to  encounter  cold  looks,  cool  treatment,  lukewarm  words ;  it 
may  fail  you,  beneath  delay,  disappointment,  heart-weariness. 
My  poor  child  !  it  wants  something  more  than  high  spirit  to  carry 
through  a  project  of  this  kind,  however  well  it  may  do  to  begin 
with." 

"  But  this,  well  borne  in  mind,  shall  keep  my  spirit  up — firm 
and  faithful,  strong  and  constant.  Never  fear,  dear  sir  ;  with 
these  timely  hints  from  you,  I  shall  win  through  with  my  purpose. 
I  thank  you  truly  for  them ;  and  I  shall  hope  to  ask  you  for 
congratulation  upon  the  success  which  will  be  greatly  owing  to 
them." 

"  Well,  I  know  not  why  I  should  farther  seek  to  damp  your 
enthusiasm  of  energy.  Only  beware,  my  dear  girl ;  do  not  lose 
courage  when  you  lose  ground ;  do  not  think  the  case  hopeless 
when  it  seems  past  hope ;  but,  above  all  do  not  be  cast  down  and 
despondent,  should  you  at  last  fail." 

"  No  ;  then  I  will  gather  fresh  courage  for  another  attempt," 
said  Kate.  ':  It  will  be  only  beginning  anew ;  trying  for  something 
else,  instead  of  for  this.  But,  meantime,  dear  doctor,  give  me 
the  necessary  paper — the  testimonial — whatever  form  of  written 
application  I  ought  to  be  furnished  with." 

Smiling  at  the  young  girl's  characteristic  impetuosity,  the 
good  vicar  drew  up  the  requisite  document,  and  said,  as  he  placed 
it  in  her  hands  :  "  You  may  call  at  Chalkby's,  in  your  way,  it 
you  please,  and  tell  him  I  will  call  round  myself  this  afternoon, 
and  speak  to  him  about  the  cards  he  will  have  to  print.  He  is 
one  of  the  voters,  and  will  furnish  you  with  a  list  of  the  rest,  and 


THE    IRON    COUSIK.  371 

the  names  of  the  Directors  ;  so  you  can  commence  business  at 
once.  But,  before  jou  go,  you  must  see  Mrs.  Meadows.  Yon 
will  find  her  up  stairs,  giving  the  chicks  their  early  dinner." 

Kate  felt  that  she  would  have  preferred  losing  no  time  in  set- 
ting about  the  matter  which  occupied  her  whole  thoughts ;  but 
she  checked  herself,  remembering,  with  an  inward  smile,  that  hero 
was  an  occasion  for  taking  her  first  lesson  in  self-control  and  men- 
tal discipline,  by  compelling  herself  to  chat  and  laugh  with  the 
children,  and  listen  to  them,  and  enter  into  all  their  important 
sayings  and  doings,  while  her  mind  was  full  of  something  else. 

Kate  Ireton's  way  of  lending  herself  to  the  interest  and  eager- 
ness of  the  little  Meadows  tribe,  had  made  her  a  great  favourite  ; 
and  when  she  opened  the  door  where  they  now  were,  there  was  a 
simultaneous  rush  from  the  dinner-table,  as  they  all  thronged 
roud  her,  shouting,  "  Kaytighton  !  Kaytighton  !  "  that  being  her 
nursery-name  among  them. 

Little  Harry  Meadows,  the  'Squire's  godson,  at  once  estab- 
lished himself  on  her  knee ;  and,  while  his  mother  talked  to  her, 
perpetually  essayed  to  draw  her  attention  exclusively  to  himself, 
by  pulling  her  face  down,  with  extremely  sticky,  pudding-immers- 
ed fingers  applied  to  her  chin,  and  insinuating  themselves  round 
her  throat. 

"  Kaytighton  !  I  say,  Kaytighton  !  I  want  you  to  listen  t 
Do  have  some  of  this  nice  pudding ;  it  is  to  be  our  last  red  cur- 
rant pudding  this  year ;  and  see  what  a  nice  thick  crust  it  has  ! 
The  walls  of  Troy  we  call  it.  Look,  this  is  the  flaming-red  city , 
and  here  arc  all  the  crushed  and  smothered  Trojans,  poor 
wretches !  " 

•   1  low  cruelly  your  spoon  plays  the  battering  ram  among  them  ! 
nml  what  a  ruthless  Achilles  you  are  yourself,  Harry !      But 
where's  the  great  wooden  horse?     I  don't  see  him  anyw 
answered  Kate. 

"  Oh,  he's  burnt  up !  Gone !  Not  even  his  mane,  or  hi*  tail, 
or  a  hoof  of  him  left !  " 

Kate    Ireton  threw  herself  so  entirely  into  little 
uuiak  '— nnd  children  arc  never  more  enchanted  than 


3*72  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

when  grown  people  will  help  them  to  make  a  romance  or  a  drama 
out  of  ordinary  facts  and  realities — that  he  could  hardly  bear  to 
let  her  gOj  when,  at  length,  she  talked  of  taking  leave. 

"  I  haven't  had  such  a  happy  time,  Kaytighton.  since  last  that 
kind,  good-natured  Mr.  Worthington  was  here.  When  he  set  mo 
on  his  knee,  dud  made  me  repeat  my  name — '  Harry  Heathcote 
Meadows  ;  '  and  lent  me  his  pencil — his  grand,  gold  pencil-case — 
and  let  me  have  it  in  my.own  hands  to  write  dogs  and  horses,  and 
Greeks  and  Trojans,  with.  But  I  like  Kaytighton  hetter  even 
than  him." 

"  Then  you're  a  silly  goose  ! "  said  Kate,  stooping  her  face 
amid  the  boy's  curly  locks ;  "  for  he's  much  better  than  Kaytigh- 
ton— he  has  a  gold  pencil-case  to  lend  you,  and  she  has  none." 

"  Ah,  but  for  all  that,  I  love  Kaytighton  the  best.  She  lets 
me  look  at  her  watch — inside,  all  those  curious  works — if  I  take 
care  not  to  breathe  into  it ;  and  to  see  the  little  steel  bar  wagging 
backwards  and  forwards — oh  !  so  quick  !  And  to  hear  it  say  its 
little  ticking  time-count ;  and  to  see  it  spring  open  at  the  back — • 
though  she  won't  let  me  find  out  how  she  does  it.  But  some  daj 
— if  I'm  very  good — to  day — oh  !  to-day,  Kaytighton  !  won't 
you?" 

"  No,  not  to-day ;  for  I  mustn't  stay  longer.  But  next  time 
I  come,  I'll  show  you  how  to  make  the  watch-back  fly  open,  your 
own  self,  Harry." 

"  Oh  !  you  dear  darling  Kaytighton  !  .But  mind  you  come  verj 
soon,  then — very  soon  ! " 

"  Very,  very  soon,  Harry.     I'll  be  sure  to  remember. " 


Had  all  Kate  Ireton's  canvassing  been  as  little  irksome  as  it 
was  at  Mr.  Chalkby's,  she  would  have  had  no  cause  to  complain 
He  was  civil  and  respectful  as  ever — nay,  perhaps  more  so — show- 
ing, by  a  certain  shy  and  hesitating  kindliness,  that  he  sympa- 
thized wita  her  altered  fortunes,  yet  feared  to  express  the  feeling 
lest  he  might  seem  to  remind  her  of  them.  Modest  Lucy  Chalk 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  373 

by  stood  by,  blushing  and  trembling,  and  scarcely  daring  to  look 
at  Kate  through  brimming  eyes,  from  dread  that  she  should  ap- 
pear curious,  or  impertinent,  or  intrusive — or  anything  most  ira 
possible  for  her  to  be. 

But  with  others,  the  case  was  far  different.  In  going  the 
round  of  the  parishioners,  to  solicit  their  votes,  how  often  was  she 
reminded  of  Coriolanus.  "  The  people  must  have  their  voices ; 
neither  will  they  bate  one  jot  of  ceremony."  They  seemed  to 
take  a  pleasure  in  forcing  her  to  go  through  all  the  form  and  mi- 
nutiae of  asking,  as  if  repeating  to  themselves,  "  She's  to  make '  her ' 
requests  by  particulars,  wherein  every  one  of  us  has  a  single  hon- 
our, in  giving  '  her '  our  own  voices  with  our  own  tongues."  How 
often,  on  presenting  herself,  was  she  tempted  briefly  to  say  with 
the  haughty  Roman  patrician,  "  You  know  the  cause,  sir,  of  my 
standing  here."  How  often,  when  some  low-lived  vulgarian,  de- 
lighting to  parade  his  power,  dallied  with  her  impatience,  and 
kept  her  in  suspense  as  to  his  decision,  did  she  long  to  put  an  end 
to  the  deliberation,  by  "  I  will  make  much  of  your  voices,  and  so 
trouble  you  no  farther."  Once,  she  had  nearly  startled  a  dirty 
publican  and  a  smudgy  blacksmith,  with  uttering  aloud  what  she 
muttered  to  herself,  "  Bid  them  wash  their  faces,  and  keep  their 
teeth  clean."  Sometimes,  in  thorough  vexation  of  heart,  sho. 
would  be  ready  to  exclaim,  "  Rather  than  fool  it  so,  let  the  high 
office  and  the  honour  go ;  "  but  then  her  pledge  to  Dr.  Meadows, 
and  her  own  spirit  of  determination,  made  her  recall  the  thought 
and  she  would  conclude  with  a  smile  at  herself,  "  I  am  half 
through  ;  the  one  part  suffcr'd,  the  rest  will  I  do." 

She  had  read  the  scene  over,  partly  with  a  touch  of 
mockery  and  self-tormenting ;  partly  in  the  idea  of  nerving  her- 
self to  go  on  with  her  task  to  the  end,  by  the  aid  of  poetry,  and 
fancy,  and  uucommonplace,  brought  amidst  the  common-places 
she  had  to  encounter. 

With  the  view  of  confronting  the  major  difficulty  first,  she 
had  made  it  her  curliest  duty  to  call  upon  the  Director  from 
whom  she  expic-t.  d  the  most  strenuous  opposition.  It  wa»  tin 
patron  and  upholder  of  <:  Lemon-face." 


374  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

Mrs.  Burgess  bad  been  his  housekeeper ;  and  he,  getting 
tired  of  her  crabbed,  domineering  ways,  had  hit  upon  this  method 
of  pensioning  her  off,  by  obtaining  the  situation  of  monitress  in 
the  village  school  for  her. 

He  was  a  low-bred  man,  immensely  rich,  and  an  inveterate 
miser ;  the  same  Mr.  Scrjmpum  against  whom  Kate  Ireton  en- 
tertained an  old  grudge,  for  having  refused  to  contribute  to  a 
charitable  project  of  her  uncle  and  Dr.  Meadows.  She  had 
never  seen  him  ;  but  what  she  had  heard,  made  her  particularly 
dread  going.  However,  there  was  no  help  for  it,  and  she 
went. 

She  was  shown  into  a  parlour,  dark  and  grimy,  notwithstand- 
ing its  fine  carpet,  fine  curtains,  large  mirrors,  and  massive  ma- 
hogany furniture.  As  she  entered,  a  voice  called  out,  "  Rub 
your  shoes  on  the  mat,  young  'oman,  afore  you  come  out  o'  the 
ball.  No  need  to  bring  cakes  o'  mud  and  dust  into  the  parlour, 
soiling  the  Brussels  carpet." 

She  saw  a  snub-nosed  little  old  man,  seated  in  a  low-backed, 
shiny,  comfortless-looking  horse-hair  chair,  glaring  at  her  through 
a  pair  of  green  spectacles. 

"  There,  sit  down,  sit  down,  young  'oman  ;  you  may  sit 
down.  It's  as  cheap  sittin'  as  standin',  the  sayin'  is.  Now, 
come,  let's  hear  what  you've  got  to  say.  The  old  story.  I  'spose. 
A  beggin'  letter,  or  a  beggin'  somethin',  o'  course.  A  man  can't 
be  said  to  be  worth  a  bit  o'  money,  but  what  he's  sure  to  be  a 
mark  for  all  the  beggars  twenty  miles  round." 

"  I  am  no  beggar ;  I  merely  came  to  request "  began 

Kate. 

"  0'  course  you  did,  I  know'd  you  did.  What's  request- 
in'  but  askin' ;  what's  askin'  but  beggin',  I  should  like  to 
know  ?  " 

"  To  request,"  Kate  went  on  firmly,  "  that  you  will 
give " 

"  To  be  sure — give  ;  that's  it,  o'  course.  The  way  with  'em 
ill !  the  way  with  'em  all !  " 

"  Will  give   your   name  and  sanction   to   my   proposal  of 


THE    IKON    COCSIN.  370 

becoming  head  inonitress  at  the  National  Village  School,"  said 
Kate. 

"Hang  me  if  I  do!"  exclaimed  the  old  man,  irritably. 
"  They  marched  off  my  'onian  from  the  allocation,  without  so 
much  as  with  your  leave,  or  by  your  leave  ;  and  hang  me  if  their 
'oman — their  candidate — shall  succeed  in  her  room  !  I'll  give 
'em  trouble  enough,  I  promise  'em  ;  hang  me  if  I  won't !  " 

"  I  trust  you  will  come  to  no  such  premature  Tyburn  fate, 
sir,"  said  Kate  Ireton ;  "  yet  I  hope,  nevertheless,  you  will  re- 
voke your  sentence  on  my  behalf.  I  will  promise  never  to  be 
the  means  of  putting  a  cord  round  your  neck,  on  the  clause  that 
affects  you,  if  you  will  consent  to  think  better  of  the  part  that 
concerns  me." 

"  Upon  my  credit,  you're  a  strange  young  'oman,  you  are  1 
Is  that  the  way  you  think  to  come  round  a  man  ?  I'll  tell  you 
what  I'll  do  with  you.  If  you'll  pass  me  your  word  that,  when- 
ever Betsy  Burgess  can  get  up  her  character  agin,  and  by  hook 
or  by  crook,  contrive  to  come  back  to  the  sitooation,  you'll  give 
it  up  to  her — by  jingo  !  I  don't  mind  if  I  promise  to  let  you  have 
it  in  the  meantime." 

"  I  cannot  accept  your  promise  on  such  a  condition  ;  it  would 
not  be  right.  I  cannot  pass  my  word  to  give  up  in  favour  of  one 
wliLf  is  obnoxious — who  is  proved  unfit  for  the  office  you  would 
have  her  fill." 

"  No,  no,  says  you ;  you'll  not  do  anything  I  ask  you,  but  I 
must  grant  whatever  you  choose  to  request  of  me.  By  jingo  ! 
that's  a  nice  way  of  reckoning,  that  is  !  " 

"  Ask  me  anything  I  can  do,  and  I  will  do  it ;  but  that 
which  I  feel  and  know  to  be  wrong,  I  cannot,  will  not  do," 
answered  Kate. 

"  Oh,  I  dare  say  !  Now,  I  warrant  me,  you'd  make  me  be- 
.ievc  that  you'd  clip  off  them  'ere  fine  locks  o'  yourn,  if  I  was  to 
ask  you." 

Kate  Ireton  had  very  magnificent  hair,  which  she  wore  in  a 
profusion  of  rk-h.  thick,  shining  curls,  that  fell  on  cither  K 
tier  beautiful  t' 


876  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

"  Send  for  a  pair  of  scissors,  and  I  will  soon  show  you  that 
anything  which  depends  on  myself — no  sacrifice  of  principle,  but 
a  mere  personal  sacrifice — I  will  do  to  oblige  you,  and  gain  the 
situation  I  so  much  desire." 

The  old  man  rang  the  bell,  and  when  the  scissors  were 
brought,  he  grinned  as  he  saw  her  take  them,  and  deliberately 
prepare  to  cut  off  the  luxuriant  treasure. 

"  Let  'em  alone !  "  he  suddenly  cried  out.  "  Let  'em  be,  I 
tell  you  !  I  won't  have  one  on  'em  touched.  They're  much  too 
good  to  be  sheared  away  like  a  sheep's  fleece.  But  tuck  'em 
away  ;  tuck  'em  behind  your  ears,  my  good  girl.  Just  you  take 
my  word  for  it ;  if  you  wear  them  fine  flopperty  curls  when 
you're  a  school-missus,  you'll  get  into  disfavour  with  the  Inspec- 
tresses  and  Lady  Directresses.  Such  ringlets  as  them  looks  too 
free  and  independent.  They  look  as  though  you  knowed  your- 
self to  be  a  lady,  and  had  a  right  to  dress  your  hair  like  one. 
Depend  on't,  they'll  bring  you  ill-will  from  the  women,  and  may- 
hap too  much  good-will  from  the  men  ;  and  that'll  double  the  ill- 
will.  Matrons  and  spouses,  and  mothers  o'  families — let  alono 
young  misses  and  sweethearts — '11  think  it  their  bounden  duty  to 
set  their  faces  agin  such  curls'  in  a  village  teacher.  Tuck  'em 
up  !  tuck  'em  up,  I  say  !  " 

Kate  laughingly  did  as  the  old  man  bade  her,  while  he 
goggled  through  his  green  spectacles,  and  grinned  through  his 
great  yellow  teeth  at  her,  with  ogreish  satisfaction  the  while. 

"  Glad  to  see  one  'oman,  at  least,  knows  how  to  mind  what's 
said  to  her.  You  mark  my  words  ;  if  you  mean  to  be  a  school- 
missus,  keep  them  curls  o'  yourn  out  o'  sight." 

"  Very  well ;  I  do  mean  to  be  a  school-mistress,  and  you 
mean  me  to  be  one — the  one,  evidently,  Mr.  Scrimpum.  Here's 
the  paper.  Be  so  kind  as  to  sign  your  name  to  it." 

"  Ah,  yes  ;  that's  the  way  you  come  round  me.  But  some- 
how, it  isn't  altogether  unpleasant  to  be  come  round  by  you. 
Some  women  have  a  knack  of  gettin'  the  bet.tcr  of  a  man,  without 
his  much  mindin'  on  it.  Well,  give  us  hold  o'  your  paper.  At 
any  rate,  it  ain't  a  beggin'  letter.  No  money  wanted ;  only 
scratch  o'  the  pen." 


THE    IRON   COUSIN.  377 


CHAPTER  XLL 

THE  rest  of  those  who  formed  the  Board  of  Directors  proved  to 
be  gentlemen ;  sensible,  urbane,  and  considerate.  Many  of  them 
were  friends  and  hunting-associates  of  her  uncle ;  and  expressed 
themselves  as  feeling  only  too  fortunate  in  securing  the  services 
of  one  who,  from  her  superior  education  and  advantages,  was  so 
more  than  competent  to  fulfil  the  office  in  question. 

Some  of  the  county  ladies,  with  Mrs.  Huntley  at  their  head, 
— who  had  in  former  times  occasionally  smarted  from  Kate  Ire- 
ton's  little  conciliatory  manner,  yet  endured  it  for  the  sake  of  her 
rank  and  station, — now  took  their  revenge  by  obligingly  compas- 
sionate remarks  upon  her  fallen  condition,  and  gossiping  comments 
upon  her  present  undertaking. 

"  Those  vastly  proud  young  ladies  have  the  strangest  notions 
of  what  is  proper  and  decorous  !  "  observed  Mrs.  Iluntley,  to  one 
of  her  morning  visitors.  "It  is  scarcely  delicate, — indeed,  hard- 
ly decent, — to  settle  down  in  so  mean  a  capacity,  in  the  very 
neighbourhood  where  she  has  been  known  in  respectability  and  lux- 
ury, and  an  honourable  position.  Bat  really,  these  high-spirited, 
independent  damsels  don't  seem  to  understand  what  delicacy  and 
decency  mean, — still  less,  true  dignity !  I  think,  the  least  she 
could  have  done,  was  to  have  taken  herself  and  her  poverty  and 
disgrace  out  of  the  way  of  those  who  had  formerly  been  acquaint- 
ed with  her,  when  she  was  a  person  one  might  bow  to,  and  bo  on 
visiting  terms  with.  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  she  were  to  have  the 
effrontery  still  to  bow,  if  we  were  to  meet ;  but  I  should  take  care 
to  put  her  in  her  proper  place  at  once.  Nothing  like  deciding 
these  uncomfortable  kind  of  altered  positions  at  first.  It  saves  a 

•  deal  of  after-disagreeable." 

"  Oh,  as  to  bowing,  I  don't  think  she'll  do  that,"  answered 
the  visitor.     "  I   passed  her  yesterday,  in   my  carriage,  and  she 
had  tin;  assurance  to  cut  me,— absolutely  to  cut  mo  ;  tliou-..' 
haps,  I  might  have  nodded  kindly  to  her,  if  she  had  given  me  t!w 


878  THE   IIiON    COUSlft. 

opportunity.  But  it's  best  as  it  is  ;  she  may  be  quite  certain,  I 
shall  never  take  the  slightest  notice  of  her  in  future." 

Unconscious  of  these  and  similar  animadversions,  Kate  Ireton 
pursued  her  own  self-appointed  course.  She  was  duly  elected, 
and  regularly  established  as  head  monitress  of  the  village  school, 
and  she  set  herself  assiduously  to  work  in  the  discharge  of  its  du- 
ties. Neither  did  she  slacken  in  her  active  superintendence  of 
the  cottage  household ;  enhancing  its  comforts,  and  bringing  grace 
and  refinement,  in  addition  to  its  primitive  simplicity.  She  made 
it  a  happy  home  to  Matty  and  Ruth.  To  the  latter,  her  advent 
was  a  benignant  chance,  a  blest  occurrence  of  fortune  ;  as  though 
some  good  genius  had  alighted  within  the  sphere  of  her  daily  ex- 
istence. Kate's  presence  acted  as  a  spell  to  draw  her  from  her 
depression;  it  cheered  and  gladdened  her  ;  some  of  the  reflected 
brightness  and  spirit  of  Kate's  character  shone  upon  and  enliven- 
ed the  gentle  diffidence  and  touching  passiveness  of  Ruth  Field. 
Her  face  became  less  wan,  her  step  less  feeble,  her  air  less  list- 
less and  sad.  It  was  Kate's  delight  to  watch  these  symptoms  of 
returning  physical  and  moral  health;  and  she  pleased  herself 
with  fostering  and  promoting  them.  She  spared  Ruth  all  the  fa 
tigue  she  could.  She  made  her  quit  school  early,  and  lie  late  ; 
frequently  insisting  that  she  should  take  her  breakfast  before  she 
left  her  room, — bringing  it  up  herself,  with  so  irresistible  an  af- 
fectionate ministry,  that  Ruth  was  compelled  to  yield,  however 
inclined  to  remonstrate. 

"  I  cannot  bear  to  see  you  waiting  upon  me  thus  ;  you,  so  in- 
dulged, so  refinedly  brought  up,  so  accustomed  to  be  attended 
upon  yourself !  "  she  would  say. 

"  Do  you  not  see,  that  'tis  but  another  kind  of  indulgence, 
Ruthy  ?  Indulging  myself  by  indulging  another,  instead  of 
others  indulging  me  ?  Depend  on't,  there's  a  subtle  pleasure  in 
this  voluntary  giving  pleasure,  instead  of  tame  receiving  pleasure, 
peculiarly  suited  to  my  self-willed  ladyship.  I  give  you  the 
minor  share,  in  making  you  the  recipient,  and  myself  the  confer- 
rer.  Therefore  you  see  you  are,  in  fact,  obliging  me,  by  submit 
ting  to  be  obliged  and  waited  upon  ;  iudulging  me,  by  letting 
yourself  be  indulged." 


THE   IRON   COUSIN.  379 

This  reversal  of  her  own  former  spoiling,  gave  Kate  exquisite 
gratification.  She  took  singular  pains  to  humour  and  pet  her 
old  nurse ;  encouraging  her  in  all  sorts  of  whimsies ;  letting  her 
treat  her  imperiously,  and  speak  to  her  authoritatively.  She  had 
an  especial  amusement  in  giving  way  to  her  frequent  peevishness, 
and  querulous  complaints  ;  would  address  herself  to  their  patient 
hearing,  and  to  the  serious  adjustment  of  their  multifarious 
branches  of  grievance. 

With  the  school-children,  she  soon  became  immensely  popu- 
lar. She  accommodated  herself  to  their  dispositions,  studied 
their  tempers,  watched  their  faults,  learned  their  good  qualities. 
She  never  thwarted ;  but  she  enforced  obedience.  She  made 
herself  beloved  ;  but  she  acquired  their  respect.  She  encouraged 
and  praised  ;  but  she  had  perfect  command.  The  mere  lifting 
of  her  finger  sufficed,  not  more  from  acknowledged  right  of  sway 
than  from  personal  attachment.  They  one  and  all  loved  their 
new  school  mistress,  as  well  as  revered  her. 

Kate  Ireton  possessed  many  characteristics  that  are  peculiar- 
ly winning  to  children.  She  was  sprightly,  sweet-tempered, 
playful-mannered,  with  a  most  musical  speaking-voice,  and  an 
extremely  handsome  face  and  person.  Children  are  more  im- 
pressed by  beauty,  than  is  sometimes  believed.  Their  fresh 
imaginations,  their  susceptible  senses,  are  keenly  alive  to  the 
allurement  of  personal  attraction.  An  infant  will  more  readily 
go  to  a  stranger  who  is  good-looking,  than  to  one  who  is  plain. 
A  child  will  sooner  make  friends  with  a  person  possessing  a 
comely  set  of  features,  than  au  ugly  countenance, — unless  there 
be  some  charm  of  expression  that  countervails  the  effect  of  home- 
ly lineaments. 

There  was  <me  dreamy -looking,  shy  child  among  her  pupils, 
who.-r  large  dark  eyes  Kate  frequently  found  wistfully  fixed  upoc 
ner. 

"Why  do  you  look  at  me  so  much,  Peggy  ?  Come  lii-n», 
dear,  and  tell  n;e." 

The  child  got  very  red  ;  but  answered  in  a  quie»  way :    '  Be- 


380  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

cause  I  can't  help  it.  'Your  face  is  very  pleasant  to  look  at 
Besides,  it  makes  me  remember ;  and  I  like  to  remember." 

"  To  remember  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  like  to  remember,  better  than  anything.     I  like  to 

remember  the  time  when  father  was  alive,  and  I  used  to  take  his 

• 

dinner  out  to  him  in  the  hay-field,  and  sit  on  the  hay,  watching 
him  while  he  ate  it.  And  the  time  when  he  used  to  come  home 
at  evening,  and  ask  for  me,  and  set  me  on  his  knee,  while  he  had 
his  supper,  and  talk  to  me,  and  call  me  his  little  Peggy — his  dear 
little  Peggy." 

"  And  what  does  my  face  make  you  remember  ?  " 

"  It  makes  me  remember  the  first  time  I  saw  it ;  and  it  makes 
me  remember  another  face,  that  was  pleasanter  still  to  look  at, — 
more  beautiful,  even." 

The  child  glanced  timidly  up  at  Kate,  to  see  whether  she 
»vas  offended  ;  but  finding  her  look  pleased  and  interested,  she 
went  on,  in  her  dreamy,  wistful  way  :  "  That  was  a  very,  very 
beautiful  face  ! " 

"  Your  father's  ?  " 

"  No  ;  the  gentleman's." 

''  What  gentleman  ?  " 

"  The  one  who  was  with  you,  when  I  saw  you  first.  I  remem- 
ber your  coming  here  one  morning — when  I  first  came  to  school, 
after  father  died — with  a  tall,  handsome  gentleman.  His  was 
the  most  beautiful  face  I  ever  saw ;  with  its  kind,  grave  eyes. 
And  his  voice,  too — oh,  his  voice  !  It  made  the  tears  come  into 
my  eyes,  it  was  so  grand  and  sweet  at  once,  like  our  church- 
organ  when  it  plays  low.  And  he  said  c  my  dear '  to  me,  as 
gently  as  father  used  to  say  it,  before  he  died.  Nobody  has  ever 
called  me  '  my  dear '  in  such  a  way,  since  I  lost  father,  but  him. 
I  like  to  remember  that  voice  ;  I  like  to  think  about  it.  I  hope 
I  shall  hear  that  voice  again  some  day." 

Kate  drew  a  rosy-cheeked  apple  from  her  pocket,  that  her  old 
nurse  had  given  her  that  morning,  and  put  it  into  the  child's 
hand. 

"  Now,  Peggy,  we  won't  chat  and  dream  any  more,  but  we'll 
get  to  at  the  lesson  with  our  best  attention." 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  381 

True  to  her  purpose,  Kate  Ireton  went  on  perseveriugly. 
But  there  were  times  when  she  felt  daunted,  oppressed,  dejected, 
by  the  change  in  her  fate.  She  felt  the  want  of  sympathy  ;  the 
unfailing  interchange  of  mutual  affection  and  mutual  comprehen- 
sion, to  which  she  had  ever  been  accustomed  with  her  beloved 
uncle  father.  She  felt  how  different  was  the  constant  encourage- 
ment, the  loving  praise,  the  fond  endearment,  the  perpetual  in- 
citement to  do  well,  which  existed  then, — compared  with  the 
solitary  self  resolve  and  self-reliance  that  was  at  present  her  sole 
stay.  Now,  she  had  nothing  but  her  own  inward  consciousness 
of  worthy  intention  to  sustain  her.  It  was  chilling,  *ud  blank, 
contrasted  with  the  former  genial  temperature  of  cherishing  and 
kindliness;  yet  withal,  she  tried  to  believe  there  might  be  some- 
thing bracing  and  salutary  in  this  colder  moral  atmosphere.  In 
her  most  cheerless  moments,  she  still  strove  to  resist  giving  way 
to  morbid  feelings.  She  never  yielded  to  exaggerated,  unwhole- 
some repinings.  She  ever  sought  to  restrain  despondency,  by 
hopeful  thoughts  ;  to  counteract  regret  by  trust  and  confi- 
dence. 

When  she  had  been  working  hard  all  day  at  teaching,  pent  in 
the  close  school-room, — which,  though  ventilated,  was  oppressive 
with  many  breaths, — tired  with  dull,  stupid,  or  negligent  chil- 
dren, wearied  with,  the  ceaseless  droning  hum  of  voices,  Kate 
would  get  out  into  the  fresh  air,  wander  away  by  herself  into 
the  fields,  or  by  the  river-side,  and  drink  in  new  force  of  heart, 
and  mind,  and  body.  She  would  then  feel  that  she  had  never 
till  now  duly  savoured  Nature  in  its  great  beneficence  and  beati- 
tude. She  had  before  enjoyed  Nature  j  now  she  had  learned  to 
fell  fffuti-ful  for  it.  She  inhaled  its  draughts  of  purity ;  she  drew 
invigoration  and  refreshment  from  its  free,  open  expanse ;  »he 
revelled  in  its  gracious,  delicious  influences;  she  steeped  In -r 
senses  in  the  exquisite  sights,  and  sounds,  and  smells,  that  saluted 
them  each  in  turn. 

This  river-side  walk  was  a  favourite  one  with  Kate.  On  a 
week  day  it  was  very  retired ;  and  it  led  so  immediately  from 
the  outskirts  of  the  village,  whereon  the  school-Dense  was  situ- 


382  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

ated,  that  it  was  of  extremely  convenient  access,  and  formed 
almost  a  pleasure-ground,  park,  and  garden  to  her  who  had  been 
accustomed  to  all  three.  It  was  shrouded  with  low  trees  and 
copsewood  for  rather  better  than  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  and  then 
led  out  across  some  pleasant  meadow-land,  in  the  direction  of 
Heathcote  Hall,  Worthington  Court,  and,  farther  on,  to  the 
town  of  Dingleton.  But  Kate  seldom  strayed  beyond  the  shaded 
path  by  the  river-side.  It  was  screened,  secluded,  and  entirely 
to  her  taste. 

One  sunny  afternoon  she  was  going  diligently  through  the 
allotted  tasks,  solacing  herself  with  the  prospect  of  an  evening 
saunter  in  this  sweet  spot ;  but  the  hours  lagged  wearily,  and 
seemed  as  though  they  would  never  come  to  a  close. 

Kate  had  brought  Matty  down  stairs  for  the  last  week,  during 
the  afterpart  of  each  day  ;  the  rheumatism  having  sufficiently 
yielded  to  the  continued  warm  weather  to  admit  of  her  sitting  in 
the  parlour,  and  even,  for  a  short  time,  in  the  cottage-porch, 
while  the  afternoon  sun  shone  full  upon  it. 

The  old  nurse  was  basking  here,  pursuing  her  favourite  occu- 
pation of  knitting,  when  a  figure  appeared  at  the  garden-gate, 
and  threw  a  sudden  dimness  upon  the  glittering  needles,  that 
caused  her  to  look  up.  At  sight  of  Matty's  face,  the  figure  ra- 
pidly advanced ;  while  she,  shading  her  eyes  with  her  hand,  and 
perceiving  who  it  was,  exclaimed  :  "  Mr.  Fermor  !  " 

Fermor  Worthington  greeted  her  kindly,  warmly  ;  but  spoke 
in  more  of  hurry  than  was  usual  with  him.  He  told  her  he  had 
only  lately  heard  the  tidings  of  the  'Squire's  death,  of  the  sale  at 
Heathcote,  of  the  unhappy  events  that  had  recently  taken  place ; 
that  he  had  just  returned  to  England,  and  learned  that  her  young 
mistress  was  Kving  in  the  village  with  llutli  Field,  at  the  cottage 
adjoining  the  school-house. 

"  And  haven't  you  heard  that  she's  head-monitress  there  ?  " 
said  Matty. 

"  I  heard  the  report,  but  could  not  credit  it." 

"  Ay,  but  she  is  though ;  and  she's  teaching  there  at  this 
very  time.  Afternoon-school  is  uow  going  on  ;  but  she'll  be  home 


THE   IRON    COUSIN.  383 

to  tea.  You'll  stop  and  see  her,  sir,  and  have  tea  with  us,  won1! 
you  ?  " 

"  I  came  to  see  her ;  I'll  stay,"  said  Fenuor,  who  hardly 
knew  what  he  was  saying.  He  could  not  bear  the  thought  of 
meeting  Kate  there,  amid  all  that  turmoil  and  crowd  of  school; 
yet,  to  abide  here,  waiting,  was  scarcely  more  tolerable. 

Forcing  himself  to  endure  the  suspense,  he  listened  to  the 
poor  old  nurse's  lamentable  account  of  her  rheumatism,  letting 
her  ramble  on,  with  little  need  of  more  than  an  occasional  sooth- 
ing or  encouraging  word  from  himself.  He  heard  the  history  of 
her  leaving  the  Hall,  of  the  seizure  which  prevented  her  going 
back  to  her  young  lady  in  her  trouble,  of  Ruth's  goodness,  of 
Kate's  coming  to  live  with  them.  It  was  the  hope  of  hearing 
iiing  of  her — of  how  she  had  borne  her  great  sorrow — that 
kept  him  thus  quiescent. 

"  She's  quite  another  thing  now ;  quite  herself  again,  as  I 
may  say,"  continued  Matty.  "  But  it  was  sad  to  see  her  afore 
I  left  She  wouldn't  have  me  know  it,  but  it  isn't  so  easy  to 
deceive  me  when  anything  goes  wrong  with  my  darling  Miss  Kate. 
I  noticed  how  she  fell  off  in  her  appetite,  how  she  got  no  sleep 
o'  night.<,  how  she  slaved  at  her  music,  and  books,  and  drawings, 
to  make  believe  she  was  just  the  same  as  ever.  But  she  wasn't. 
I  kix'w'd  it  fast  enough;  and  I  traced  it  all  out,  sure  enough. 
Oh.  she  couldn't  blind  her  old  Matty,  when  anything  ailed  her 
own  darling  !  I  noticed  it  first  that  morning,  when  she  came 
out  of  the  breakfast-room  as  pale  as  a  sheet,  and  beckoned  to  me, 
as  though  she  couldn't  speak,  and  took  and  leaned  upon  my  arm, 
and  went  up  the  stairs,  holding  by  the  banisters  all  the  way ; 
and,  when  we  reached  her  room,  dropping  into  a  chair,  and  sign- 
ing mo  to  throw  the  window  wide  open,  and  getting  out  the  words 
to  bid  me  go  away  and  leave  her,  and  looking  ready  to  choke  all 
the  while.  Any  other  young  lady  would  have  fainted,  but  my 
darling  has  a  spirit  to  bear  her  up  against  anything.  I  couldn't 
ni;tk«-  it  out  then  ;  but  afterwards  I  understood  it  all.  She'd 
just  heard  the  news  that  he  was  going  to  India." 

Former  Worthington  started  up  as  if  a  pistol  had  been  du 


384  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

charged  at  his  temple ;  and  then  stood  leaning  against  the  porch, 
like  a  statue,  whilst  Matty  went  crooning  on  : — "  Robert  was 
clearing  away  the  breakfast-things,  and  heard  how  the  letter  had 
come  from  his  mother  summoning  him  away  to  go  abroad.  A 
dread-ful  time  that  was  for  her  :  and  then  came  another.  That 
evening,  afore  he  went  away,  as  I  was  standing  by  the  glass-door 
in  the  library,  I  saw  'em  both,  plain  enough,  in  the  rose-walk 
together.  I  couldn't  hear  much  of  what  was  said  ;  but  I  heard 
him  say,  quite  distinct,  just  as  he  came  to  a  turn,  and  led  her 
back  again — '  the  knowledge  that  I  possess  your  love,  will  bear 
me  through  any  absence  ; '  and,  afterwards,  I  saw  'em  still  pacing 
up  and  down,  and  talking  low ;  and  I  could  see  him  take  her 
hand  in  his  :  though  the  light  was  fading  fast,  I  could  see  that. 
And  I  could  see  him,  at  last,  take  her  in  his  arms,  and " 

"  Hold  !  This  is  not  for  me — for  any,  to  hear  !  "  Fermor  at 
last  found  voice  to  exclaim. 

"  Ay,  she  was  displeased  herself  when  she  found  I'd  over- 
heard and  seen  so  much.  But  I  know  you  won't  betray  me  that 
I  mentioned  it,  Mr.  Fermor ;  and  to  you — one  of  the  family — 
it  don't  signify,  you  know ;  there's  no  harm  in  repeating  family 
secrets  to  one  of  the  family,  is  there  ?  But  you're  not  going, 
Mr.  Fermor,  sir,  are  you  ?  Miss  Kate  '11  be  back  to  tea  directly ; 
I  expect  her  every  minute." 

"  Tell  her  I  will  see  her  another  time ;  I  will  call  again  ;  I'll 
return,"  said  Fermor,  in  a  hoarse  voice.  And  the  next  moment 
he  had  disappeared. 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

WHKN  Kate  came  home,  and  learned  from  Matty  who  had  been, 
during  her  absence — the  first  emotion  over — her  second  feeling 
was  one  of  bitterness.  "  He  could  not  wait  to  see  me  ;  he  cared 
not  even  to  stay  1 " 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  385 

Telling  Ruth  and  Matty  to  have  their  tea,  and  to  put  some 
away  for  her,  as  she  should  be  glad  of  it  cold,  by  and  bye,  she  went 
to  take  the  walk  she  proposed,  by  the  river-aide.  With  what 
different  thoughts  had  she  looked  forward  to  it  all  that  tedious 
afternoon.  Now,  it  would  be  full  of  chagrin  and  sad  rumination, 
witli  a  rankling  sense  of  :njustice  and  unkindness. 

"  He  does  not  care  enough  for  me,  to  desire  to  see  me,  to 
await  my  coming  back,"  was  still  her  thought  "  It  is  plain  ;  he 
is  utterly  estranged  and  averse.  It  is  well.  It  will  strengthen 
me  in  my  power  to  meet  him  with  indifference — to  feel  indifference 
— indifference  equal  to  his  own." 

Meanwhile,  Fermor  Worthington  had  no  sooner  found  him- 
self alone,  and  out  of  reach  of  observation,  than  he  had  yielded 
to  his  over-mastering  agitation.  He  paced  to  and  fro  by  the 
border  of  the  river,  for  a  time  giving  full  course  to  his  emotions. 
Gradually,  however,  his  habitual  self-control  came  to  his  aid;  he 
recovered  himself,  he  reasoned  with  himself,  schooled  his  feelings 
to  sedater  tone,  and  compelled  them  into  more  dispassionate 
train.  "  Did  I  not  voluntarily  quit  her — voluntarily  resign  all 
thoughts  of  seeking  her  love  ?  Did  I  not  steadily  face  the  pro- 
bability of  her  giving  that  love  to  another,  and  leave  him  to  win 
and  obtain  it  ?  And  shall  I  now  flinch  because  I  find  this  love 
actually  bestowed  and  exchanged  ?  Shall  I  abandon  the  inten- 
tion with  whii-h  I  sought  her  again  on  hearing  her  calamity? 
Shall  I  selfishly  withdraw  from  the  purpose  I  held  of  offering  her 
aid,  of  tendering  consolation,  service,  care,  protection?  Why, 
because  I  am  denied  hope  of  calling  her  mine,  must  I  give  up 
hope  of  assisting,  sheltering,  comforting  her  ?  Lot  ine  stifle  this 
unworthy  thought  of  self,  and  return,  in  all  outward  tranquillity 
and  calm,  to  proffer  a  friend's  hand,  a  kinsman's  ffelp.1' 

It  was  with  the  external  serenity  engendered  by  such  a  pro- 
eess  of  thought,  that  Fermor  beheld  Kate  Ireton  approachiup 
along  the  river-side  walk.  And  it  was  with  the  like  apparent 
instability  that  Kate  Ireton,  after  her  self-communing,  was  eu- 
abled  to  advance  towards  him.  They  met  unconcernedly— *1- 
most  coldly.  His  restraint  and  reserve  of  manner,  roomed  to 

17 


386  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

guard  his  own  heart  from  selfish  betrayal,  confirming  her  idea  of 
his  estrangement ;  while  her  resolute  effort  to  appear  indifferent 
corroborated  but  too  well  his  impression  of  her  state  of  feeling. 
Moreover,  the  season  of  adversity  through  which  Kate  Ireton 
had  lately  passed,  had  been  the  means  of  disciplining  her  into 
greater  power  of  self-command  and  self-possession  than  ever. 

She  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"  You  are  returned  to  England  ?  Matty  told  rne  you  had 
been." 

"  In  my  disappointment  at  not  finding  you,  I  came  away ; 
but  I  repented  of  niy  impatience,  and  was  retracing  my  steps,  in 
the  hope  that  you  might  by  this  time  be  at  home — at  the  cottage. 
The  news  of — of  our  loss,  only  reached  me  a  few  days  since ;  I 
left  the  Continent  immediately,  and  hastened  hither  to  seek 
you." 

He  would  have  drawn  her  arm  within  hi;>,  that  they  might 
walk  on  together;  but  Kate,  instinctively  dreading  such  danger- 
ous contact,  where  an  unguarded  motion,  or  treacherous,  involun- 
tary tremor,  might  at  any  moment  betray  her,  eluded  it,  by  lean- 
ing her  back  against  a  tree,  and  remaining  thus,  as  if  to  listen  to 
what  he  might  have  to  say. 

Heart-smitten  by  the  cold  avoidance  of  her  manner,  by  such 
a  reception,  such  a  meeting,  together  with  the  thought  of  her 
bereavement,  brought  forcibly  to  his  mind  by  her  mourning- 
habit  and  altered  mien — Fermor  could  only  stand  silently  regard- 
ing her. 

As  he  gazed  upon  the  motionless  figure,  with  its  drooped 
head,  and  face  hidden  from  him  by  the  straight  straw  bonnet — 
the  coarseness  of  her  garb  suddenly  struck  him ;  for  Kate,  in 
consonance  witn  her  system  of  frugality  and  self-restriction,  had 
adopted  the  commonest  and  cheapest  kind  of  clothing.  This 
slight  circumstance  struck  Fermor  with  a  strange  sense  of  ad- 
ditional discomfort  and  distress,  irking  and  fretting  him  with  its 
palpable  present  token  of  her  impoverished  fortunes,  her  changed 
existence. 

He  made  some  hasty,  irrepressible  allusion  to  it. 


THE    IKON    COUSIN.  387 

"  la  it  possible  such  trivialities  can  engage  the  attention  of 
the  Iron  Cousin  for  an  instant  ?  "  said  Kate,  with  a  curling  lip. 
"  I  have  no  superfluous  money  to  throw  away  upon  dress ;  nor, 
were  I  ever  so  rich,  should  I  do  so,  especially  now.  To  my 
thinking,  there  is  a  species  of  irreverence  in  fine  mourning.  The 
solemn  fopperies  of  crape  and  broad  hems,  of  jet  and  bugles,  the 
ceremonial  formalities  of  black  trappings,  the  appointed  grade* 
in  bombazine  woe,  appear  to  me  little  better  than  insult  to  the 
sincerity  of  that  grief  which  muffles  the  beating  heart  in  unseen 
sables,  and  shrouds  it  in  weeds  of  deepest  and  darkest  hue.  The 
mourning  suit  signifies  little ;  the  simpler  and  humbler  it  is,  the 
better." 

"  But  surely,  there  is  no  need  of  this  ultra-homeliness  of  ap- 
parel," said  Ferraor. 

"  Suppose  I  choose  to  be  extravagant  in  what  I  deem  due 
plainness  ?  "  returned  she. 

"  It  is  more  than  due  plainness  ;  such  coarse  garments  u 
these  are  not  fit  for  your  wear,  Kate.  These  clumsy  shoes,  this 
common  stuff  gown,  this  rough  poke  bonnet,  are  not  fit  " 

••Was  it  for  this  you  came  back  ?  Did  you  retrace  your 
steps,  for  the  purpose  of  discussing  my  mode  of  dress  ?  Besides, 
tne  Iron  Cousin's  just  sense  of  propriety  might  tell  him  that  thin 
plain  style  precisely  befits  a  village  school-mistress." 

"  It  was  for  that  I  returned — for  that  I  chiefly  came  to  seek 
you  ;  to  dissuade  you,  Kate,  from  pursuing  that  unworthy  course 
of  life." 

"  What  is  there  unworthy  in  honest  work  ?  w  she  said. 

"  Do  not  misconstrue  me,  Kate.  I  mean,  unworthy  of  you — 
of  your  previous  habits,  of  your  refinement,  your  education.  I 
should  perhaps  have  said  uncongenial  life,  rather  than  unworthy." 

"  Whatever  advantages  I  may  have  had  formerly,  will  hut 
l.cl|.  mo  ih«  hotter  in  my  present  life,"  she  said.  "  Cultivati-m 
nud  education  will  avail,  where  ignorance  might  ha?c  failed,— 
ond  I  am  not  fond  of  failure." 

i  Jut  why  need  you  stoop  to  so  humble  a  career — to  so  low  Ij 
&  condition  ?  " 


588  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  Oh !  it  is  the  degraded  station,  which  onr  proud  Worthing- 
ton  fears,  is  it  ?  The  master  of  Worthington  Court  dreads  what 
may  be  said,  if  a  relation  of  his  earns  her  bread  as  a  poor 
teacher." 

"  Once  more,  Kate,  I  say,  do  not  misinterpret  me."  Fermor 
said  in  his  grave,  full  voice.  "  You  know  it  is  no  thought  of  the 
sort  which  prompts  me.  But  I  cannot  have  you  pursue  this 
course.  It  hurts  me  to  think  of  your  being  obliged  to  toil  for 
daily  subsistence.  I  cannot  have  you  do  it" 

x'  You  '  cannot  have  ! '  And  why  so,  pray  ?  What,  after 
all,  has  your  sufferance  to  do  with  the  point  ?  "  she  said  impetu- 
ously. 

"  Kate,  hear  me,"  he  answered.  "  I  am  now  your  natural 
guardian  and  protector — your  nearest  male  relative — well  nigh 
the  sole  one  you  have  upon  earth.  I  stand  in  the  position  of  a 
brother  to  you,  now,  Kate  ;  let  me  fulfil  the  part  of  one  ;  let  me 
have  the  proud  joy  of  feeling  that  you  look  upon  me  in  the  light 
of  one  and  that  as  such,  you  become  my  care." 

"  Even  a  sister  might  hesitate — might  disdain — to  accept 
provision  from  a  brother,  when  she  could  maintain  herself  with- 
out becoming  a  burden  upon  him.  Do  you  not  think  I  may  have 
my  own  proud  feelings  to  consult  as  well  as  yours,  good  cousin  ?  " 
she  replied. 

"  You  have  them  but  too  surely,  too  strongly,  Kate,"  he  re- 
turned. "  You  have  too  much  pride,  alas  !  Better  forego  some 
of  it,  in  favour  of  kindliness  and  kinship.  Remember  your  own 
noble,  simple  words  as  a  gin — when  you  said  that,  did  you  re- 
quire money,  you  would  not  refuse  to  take  it  from  me,  since  you 
would  willingly  give  me  some  of  yours  ;  that  relations  need  not 
be  nice  upon  such  points,  or  care  which  helped  the  other.  Think 
of  your  right-minded,  honest  sentiment,  when  years  had  but  con- 
firmed your  clear  and  just-seeing  views,  and  you  declared  that 
the  amount  of  a  gift  did  not  constitute  its  value,  and  therefore 
amount  should  not  cause  hesitation  in  acceptance.  Wh}'  persist 
in  declining  a  proposal  made  but  in  consonance  with  your  own 
upright,  true,  ingenuous  admission  ?  Why  not  act  in  conformity 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  389 

with  your  o\vu  childish  candour  of  opinion — that  coiuinfl  need 
not  care  which  helps  the  other  ?  You  would  do  no  leas  for  u»e, 
were  it  my  strait,  instead  of  yours,  Kate  ;  why  not  believe  that 
I  have  equal  earnestness  of  wish  to  serve  you,  since  it  is  my 
chance  to  h«  the  richer ;  and  suffer  me  to  help  you  as  you  would 
help  me,  were  our  cases  reversed  ?  " 

"  A  La.sty  youthful  speech  is  not  to  bind  nie  now,  that  I  have 
learned  to  think  differently  from  what  I  did,  when  I  had  the 
power  to  bestow  as  well  as  to  receive,"  said  Kate.  "  I  have 
neither  the  one  nor  the  other  now.  My  loss  deprives  me  of  the 
ability  to  give ;  my  poverty  denies  me  the  righWtho  pleasure — 
to  accept." 

"  Kate,  if  not  for  your  own  sake,  yet  for  mine,  consent  to  do 
as  I  would  have  you,"  urged  Fermor.  "  How  do  you  believe  I 
can,  with  any  comfort,  lie  softly,  eat  luxuriantly,  live  idly, 
yonder  at  Worthington  Court,  knowing  that  my  owu  kins- 
woman is  lodging  humbly,  faring  hardly,  drudging  unduly,  the 
while  ?  " 

"  You  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  sleep  upon  the  boards,  feed 
upou  bread  and  water,  and  work  like  a  horse,  if  the  contrary  dis- 
you.  There  will  be  something  in  the  way  of  life  that  will 
have  its  charms  for  the  Iron  Cousin,  who  has  a  passion  for  self- 
denial,  austerity,  rigour  of  abnegation.  A  thousand  pities  he 
did  not  live  in  his  own  age  of  iron,  or  in  the  time  of  hair  shirts, 
fa.^t.s,  disciplines,  and  penances.  What  a  right  glorious  and  fer- 
ruginous saint  he  would  have  made  !  lie  might  have  worn  a 
girdle  like  St.  Somebody,  to  eat  into  his  flesh,  only  bo  would 
have  worn  a  rusty  chain  in  lieu  of  a  well-rope.  He  might 
retired  to  the  top  of  a  pillar  for  his  forty  years'  abode,  like  St. 
Something,  only  he  would  have  added  a  sharp  spike  to  the  beati- 
tudes of  his  resting  place." 

"  Kate  !  Kate !  I  am  in  earnest — in  deep,  vital  earnest,' 
said  Fermor,  "  and  you  will  jest." 

"  Best  let  me  jest  while  I  am  in  the  humour,"  she  replied ; 
'  if  I  take  to  earnest,  I  may  say  something  that  may  dieplcaM 
you  worse  than  m\ 


890  THE   IRON   COUSIN. 

"  Nothing  can  be  less  welcome  to  me  than  your  treating  as  a 
jest  what  I  would  have  you  consider  earnestly,  seriously,  Kate," 
he  said. 

"  Then  take  my  serious  answer,"  she  replied,  in  as  grave  and 
firm  a  tone  as  his  own.  "  I  have  considered  this  question  ;  con- 
sidered it  carefully,  finally.  I  have  made  up  my  mind  that  I  will 
never  be  beholden  to  any  one  for  a  livelihood — relation,  or  no  re- 
lation— while  I  can  earn  a  living  for  myself  by  my  own  exertions. 
I  am  young,  strong,  healthful,  with  faculties  of  average  capacity. 
Many — better,  worthier  by  far  than  myself — have  to  work  for 
their  bread.  I  may  have  still  another  motive  ;  but  why  need  I 
state  it  ?  Yet  I  will — once  for  all — that  you  may  understand 
me  thoroughly,  decidedly,  and  that  the  question  may  be  hence- 
forth at  rest  between  us.  I  may  have  a  certain  end  of  my  own 
in  this  determination.  I  may  propose  it  to  myself  as  a  probation, 
a  test,  a  trial,  a  task.  I  may  have  a  secret  incentive  to  support 
me  in  my  intention  to  labour  patiently,  sincerely,  perseveringly, 
in  a  humble,  honest,  self-dependent  path.  I  may  have  such 
a  view,  I  say,  and  I  ask  you,  my  kinsman,  my  friend,  not  to 
oeek  to  move  me  from  my  purpose.  Crow-bars  should  not 
do  it;  the  Iron  Cousin  shall  not — will  not — if  I  beg  him  to 
desist." 

There  was  a  glow  of  resolve,  a  tone  of  high-set  determination 
in  Kate's  manner,  as  she  said  this,  which  impressed  Fermor 
Worthington  with  the  idea  that  this  motive,  this  secret,  power- 
ful incentive  she  spoke  of,  was  no  other  than  her  attachment  to 
Cecil  Lascelles  ;  and  that  her  view  in  thus  choosing  to  work  dili- 
gently and  self-helpingly,  was  to  preserve  her  independence  for 
his  sake.  There  was  much  of  heightened  admiration,  mingled 
with  bitterness,  unspeakable  bitterness,  in  the  thought. 

In  the  gall  of  the  latter  feeling,  he  hurriedly  said,  "  The 
Iron  Cousin  should  not  suffer  himself  to  yield  beneath  entreaty  ; 
he  should  know  how  to  refuse  an  unreasonable  request,  to  deny 
unfit  demand." 

"  It  is  not  to  be  doubted  that  the  Iron  Cousin  can  steel  him 
pelf  against  aught  that  interferes  with  his  own  sublime  will  and 


THE   IRON   COUSIN.  391 

pleasure,  his  own  high  and  mighty  sovereign  iron  mill,"  said 
Kate,  at  once  relapsing  into  her  wonted  light  scoffing  tone  and 
haughty  speech,  upon  his  resistance  to  her  appeal.  "  But  there 
shall  be  no  question  of  his  yielding  to  supplication.  He  shall 
have  no  trial  of  his  power  to  withstand  entreaty.  I  do  not  now 
'  beg  '  him  to  desist ;  I  desire  him  to  do  so  ;  and  merely  request 
him  to  understand  that  I  do  not  require  his  sanction  or  his  coun- 
sel, his  permission  or  his  approval.  I  abide  neither  refusal  nor 
denial.  I  acknowledge  no  right  of  his  to  grant  or  to  withhold — 
to  consent  or  to  forbid.  His  version  of  guardianship  is  dictator- 
ship ;  his  signification  of  protection  is  authority  to  control,  right 
to  prescribe.  If  to  recognize  guardian  and  protector  in  my  sole 
relative  on  earth,  be  to  relinquish  liberty  of  judgment  over  017 
own  actions,  then  I  renounce  kindred  altogether,  and  will  strive 
to  suffice  to  myself  in  my  passage  through  the  world." 

Kate  felt  herself  to  blame ;  but  with  her  characteristic  im 
petuosity  and  natural  wilfulness,  joined  to  her  old  special  per- 
versity of  feeling,  where  Fermor  Worthington  was  concerned 
she  could  not  help  persisting.  She  felt  that  this  was  not  the 
way  to  commence  her  proposed  task  of  moral  amelioration  and 
self-chastening ;  she  knew  that  she  should  arraign  herself,  and 
suffer  severely  from  remorse  and  reproach  of  conscience,  on  a 
subsequent  reviewal  of  her  conduct ;  but  still  she  could  not  sub- 
due her  impulse  at  the  moment  to  yield  to  the  excited  and 
variously-compounded  tumult  of  emotions  that  surged  within 

her. 

"  You  speak  harshly,  Kate,"  Fermor  said,  after  a  pause,  dur- 
ing which  he  had  been  gathering  calmness  to  reply,  without 
showing  how  deeply  her  words  hurt  him. 

"  I  speak  openly ;  as  you  know  I  always  do.     That  is  one 
roason,  had  I  no  other,  which  would  determine  me  never  to  be- 
mine  dependent  on  a  relation  for  bread.     I  should  ohooae  to  n 
serve  freedom  of  speech  and  behaviour ;  and  that  could  hard 
be,  were  I  to  sacrifice  independence,  and  deliver  myself  uj.  =• 
bondswoman,   a  stipendiary,  a  pensioner  on  another's  bouutf. 
You  know  I  have  always  used  liberty  of  retort  with  the  1 


392  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

Cousin  ;  and  I  intend  to  maintain  my  right  to  do  so,  wheuevor  it 
pleases  me, — if  it  do  not  affront  him." 

"  It  cannot  affront  or  offend  me  ;  but — "  he  stopped 

"  If  he  do  not  object  to  it, — disapprove  of  it  " 

Fermor  Worthington  was  silent. 

"  Pray  let  there  be  explicit  answer,"  she  said. 

"  You  know,  Kate,  I  have  never  spared  you,  nor  flattered  you 
I, — I — regard  you  too  truly,  to  allow  me  to  do  either ;  and  I  can- 
not tell  an  untruth,  even  to  please  you.  I  may  not  say  I  approve 
your  cutting  speech — 'your  wounding  manner ;  for  they  are,  I  too 
keenly  feel,  the  one  point  that  mars  all  else  in  you.  Kate,"  ho 
added,  with  an  attempt  to  speak  smilingly,  "  till  he  can  inure  him- 
self to  bear  more  philosophically — as  he  should  do,  since  they  deal 
but  according  to  their  nature — these  diamond-pointed  thrusts,  the 
Iron  Cousin  will  abstain  from  exposing  himself  to  their  assaults. 
Sir  Dullarton  has  asked  me  to  go  for  him  to  Scotland,  and  settle 
the  title  deeds  of  a  small  estate — a  shooting-box — he  has  in  the 
Highlands.  I  ask  but  one  thing  of  you,  Kate.  If  you  should 
desire  a  kinsman's  aid,  a  brother's  counsel,  a  friend's  help,  do  not 
omit  to  write  to  me, — to, — to  your  Iron  Cousin." 

It  was  well  that  Kate  Ireton  was  still  leaning  against  the 
young  oak-tree  ;  it  enabled  her  to  sustain  her  limbs ;  to  conceal 
their  trembling  and  the  throbbing  of  her  heart ;  and  gave  her  time 
to  command  her  faltering  voice,  ere  she  replied.  She  nerved  her 
self  to  utter  the  simple  form  of  "  Good  bye !  "  to  receive  and  re 
turn  the  quiet  shake  of  the  hand ;  to  see  him  turn  away,  and  van 
ish  slowly  from  her  sight. 

She  walked  straight  home.  Her  step  was  even  ;  her  eyes  dry ; 
her  face  stedfast.  But  her  hands  were  icy  cold  ;  her  lips  were  col- 
ourless ;  there  was  a  stringent  contraction  of  the  brow ;  and  within 
her  bosom,  her  heart  felt  like  a  leaden-bound  burning  spot, — 
where,  spite  of  all,  lay  the  consciousness  that  were  it  to  go  through 
again,  she  should  act  precisely  as  she  had  done.  Altered  as  she 
was  — unchanged  as  he  was, — she  felt  that  she  must  still  treat  him 
thus,  in  order  to  keep  from  him  and  from  herself  the  secret  thirst 
to  treat  him  differently. 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  393 

The  last  thing  at  night,  Matty  said  to  Kate  suddenly :  "  I  for 
got  to  show  you  what  that  gopd,  thoughtful  Mr.  Fermor  gnTe  me 
to  buy  physic  and  the  best  medical  'tendance  that  could  be  got, 
when  I  was  telling  him  about  iny  rheumatics.  He's  different  from 
;i  most  young  gentlemen,  is  Mr.  Fermor;  he's  thoughtful,  and 
considerate,  and  hears  one  out  patiently,  while  one's  speaking  of 
one's  worrits  and  miseries.  He  don't  interrupt,  ite  lets  one 
talk  on  in  peace — and  that's  a  comfort  See  hero  1  "  she  said,  aa 
she  put  a  bank-note  into  Kate's  hands.  '•  He's  a  generous,  good- 
hearted  gentleman,  for  all  he's  like  his  father  before  him, — just  a 
bit  cold  and  distant,  and  marbly-like.  But  it's  more  manner,  than 
reality.  He  must  have  some  feeling,  to  think  of  making  me  such 
a  handsome  present  to  get  doctoring  with." 

"  You  did  not  tell  me  what  he  gave  you,"  said  Kate,  absently. 

••  Why,  you're  looking  at  it,  Miss  Kate,  my  darling." 

She  was  looking  at  it ;  but  did  not  seo  it, — as  money.  Sum 
and  amount  were  invisible  to  her;  she  beheld  only  something 
that  lie  had  touched  ;  something  that  he  had  given,  kindly,  thought 
fully,  generously.  She  kept  it  folded,  just  as  it  was,  enclosed 
lift  ween  her  palms,  with  a  sense  of  treasured  content;  while  she 
answered  Matty  by  some  playful  rejoinder,  saying  she  would  take 
of  it  for  her. 

"  So  do,  darling.  Not  but  what  I  can  take  care  of  it  myself. 
I  a'n't  nowise  careless.  I  could  always  be  trusted  with  money 
of  other  people's ;  and  I  dare  say,  I  shouldn't  be  less  trustwor- 
thy with  my  own.  But  I  like  you  to  take  charge  of  it  for  mo. 
I'll  tell  you  what  I've  been  thinking  of,  Miss  Kate.  I  mean  to 
knit  Mr.  Fermor  one  of  my  best  purses,  in  return  for  his  kind 
present.  I  noticed  he  had  the  shabbiest  old  purse  of  his  own, 
poor  young  gentleman  ;  he  is  but  a  bachelor,  and  hasn't  nobody 
to  look  after  him  a  bit,  and  seo  that  he  has  things  handsome  and 
proper  about  him  ;  and  so  I  shall  knit  him  one  of  my  rery  hand- 
st." 

"  Oh  the  pride  of  the   clcrer  knitter ! "   exclaimed  Kttc. 
'  Oh,   the   Bkill  conceit  of  you  '  spinsters  and  knitters  in  the 

sun  1 '  " 

17* 


394  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  Well,  perhaps  I  do  think  myself  a  tolerable  knitter  ;  but  a« 
for  t'other,  no  need  to  twit  me  with  being  a  spinster.  There's 
no  call  to  cast  that  up  to  me  There's  worse  titles  for  us  women 
than  '  old  maid.'  It  a'n't  every  woman's  fortune  to  get  married  ; 
not  but  what  I  might  ha'  been,  over  and  over  again,  if  I'd  chose; 

but  no  matter  for  that !  " 

* 

"  Of  course  you  might,  Mattykin  !  When  these  kind  old 
eyes  were  bright  with  twenty  summers'  sunshine,  I'll  be  bound 
they  could  count  their  murderous  deeds  by  scores.  And  they're 
still  sharp  enough,  a'n't  they  ?  sharp  as  your  own  knitting-nee- 
dles. Their  sight  don't  fail  them  a  jot.  I  shouldn't  wonder  if 
they  noticed  even  the  colour  of  that  old  shabby  purse  you  were 
talking  of." 

"  That  they  did  ;  my  eyes  haven't  lost  their  quickness,  though 
mayhap  their  brightness  is  gone.  I  a'n't  blind,  thank  Heaven  ! 
Although  my  old  eyes  mayn't  be,  to  look  at,  what  they  were 
when  that  saucy  Dick  Dimble — Ben's  father,  Miss  Kate — used  to 
call  'em  sparklers ;  yet  they  can  see  pretty  nigh  as  plain  as  ever. 
And  to  prove  it  to  you,  my  darling,  I'll  just  tell  you  that  I  took 
notice  Mr.  Fermor's  old  purse  was  a  dark  brown ;  for  all  the 
world  like  that  strong  stout  one  I  made  you  for  a  travelling- 
purse,  when  you  went  abroad  to  foreign  parts  last  year.  But  I'll 
make  him  a  beautiful  new  one ;  fit  for  such  a  gentleman  as  he  is 
to  wear." 

Still  folded  in  four, — smooth,  and  delicate,  and  welcome  to 
the  touch — dear  and  hallowed  to  fancy — the  cherished  note  lay 
beneath  Kate  Ireton's  pillow  that  night.  In  many  things  she 
was  yet  a  very  child, — and  a  very  woman  too. 


CHAPTER   XLIII. 

THE  tedium  and  void  of  her  present  existence  seemed  redoubled 
to  Kate,  after  the  brief  re-appearanca  of  Fermor  Worthington. 
It  was  like  the  chilling  withdrawal  of  the  sun  after  a  burst  of 


THE   IRON    COUSIN.  3£6 

spring  warmth  and  brightness.  Deepened  shade  coining  upon 
passing  shine  ;  disappointment  shutting  out  a  glimpse  of  promise. 
But  it  was  the  result  of  her  own  deed,  and  she  told  herself  that 
she  was  content. 

She  pursued  her  solitary  rambles  after  her  daily  toil,  as  the 
8urcst  means  of  rest,  for  both  frame  and  spirit.  Exercise  and 
open  air,  acted  restoratively  for  cramped  limbs,  and  afforded  re- 
freshment for  jaded,  weary,  stifled  oppression ;  while  free  mo- 
tion, free  breathing,  free  feeling,  served  best  to  rouse  from  stag- 
nant or  one-currented  thought. 

Once,  as  she  extended  her  walk  farther  than  hitherto,  allured 
by  the  beauty  of  the  evening,  and  the  retired  quiet  of  her  path, 
Kate  found  herself  near  to  the  wooded  enclosures  of  Heathcote. 
She  turned  abruptly  from  the  stile  beneath  the  hazlcs,  not  choos- 
ing to  linger  there  ;  but  walking  on  a  little  farther,  she  stood 
leaning  against  a  small  wicket-gate,  and  looked  over  into  the 
park  glades. 

There  was  not  a  leaf  stirring,  not  a  sound  to  be  heard.  Soli- 
tude the  most  perfect,  peace  the  most  complete,  reigned  around 
her. 

While  congratulating  herself  upon  the  seclusion  and  privacy 
of  the  spot,  the  recollection  crossed  her  mind  of  the  time  when 
her  boyish  cousin  had  said  that  it  was  not  well  for  her,  a  young 
lady,  unattended,  unprotected,  to  go  out  alone ;  and  she  smiled 
to  think  how  securely  now,  the  humble  school-teacher  could  walk 
whither  she  would,  unnoticed  as  unaccompanied. 

The  thought  had  hardly  passed,  when  she  heard  a  horse's 
footstep  approaching,  along  the  lane.  She  maintained  her  posi- 
tion, without  moving,  or  looking  round. 

Presently  she  heard  a  strange  voice  say  :  "  Can  you  tell  me 
the  nearest  way  to  Dingleton,  my  girl  ?  " 

There  was  something  in  tho  tone  that  grated  unpleasant  I  \ 
upon  her  ear  ;  and  she  glanced  over  her  shoulder  to  see  how  the 
appearance  assorted  with  the  speaking-voice.  She  saw  a  well- 
dri-sed  man  on  horseback;  whose  look  and  air  as  much  belied 
the  gentlemanly  apparel,  as  it  confirmed  the  impression  conveyed 
by  his  tone  :nnl  manner. 


896  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

Kate  relapsed  into  her  former  attitude. 

"  By  Jove  1  what  a  beautiful  face  !  "  exclaimed  the  man  to 
nimself.  Then  he  added,  aloud  :  "  Do  you  hear,  child  ?  "\Vlij 
don't  you  answer  ?  " 

"  I  hear ;  but  I  am  not  bound  to  answer,  or  direct  you.  I 
am  no  finger-post.  There  is  one  farther  on,  at  the  end  of  the 
lane.  Gro  on,  and  you'll  find  it." 

''  But  I  don't  care  to  go  on  just  now,  since  I've  fallen  in 
with  something  better  than  a  post.  I'd  rather  you  would  guide 
me.  Pr'ythee  tell  me — nay,  why  won't  you  be  civil,  my  beauty, 
and  turn  round,  and  attend,  when  you're  spoken  to  ?  " 

"  When  you  address  me  properly,  I  may  attend." 

"  And  how,  pray,  are  you  to  be  addressed,  pretty  one  ?  " 

"  By  none  of  the  titles  you  have  used." 

"  How  then  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  giving  my  address  to  strangers,  es- 
pecially those  with  no  letters  of  recommendation — in  speech  or 
look." 

"  No  ?  Then  till  I  find  out  your  address,  I'll  try  and  con- 
tent myself  with  finding  you  away  from  home." 

The  man  precipitately  dismounted,  and  came  towards  her. 

Kate  turned  like  a  startled  fawn,  terror-stricken,  but  stand- 
ing at  bay. 

The  man  pressed  close,  and  looked  under  her  bonnet  with  in- 
solent scrutiny. 

"  Keep  back  !  I  am  not  accustomed  to  such  rude  approach  ! ' 
she  said,  breathlessly. 

"  Suppose  I  teach  you,  my  haughty  village  fair  one — my 
queen  of  cottage-maidens." 

Kate's  heart  beat  thick.  She  looked  round  desperately  for 
help.  At  the  moment  she  felt  the  ruffian  touch  upon  her  shoul- 
der, the  bold  rude  breath  against  her  very  face,  she  espied  Ben 
Dimble  crossing  the  lane.  Crying  rapturously  "  Ben  !  Ben  ! " 
she  wrenched  herself  away,  flew  swiftly  after  him,  clung  to  his 
arm,  and  hurried  onwards. 

"  Oho  !  a  rustic  sweetheart !     But  I'll  not  lose  sight  of  tlio 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  397 

pencil.  I  shall  find  means  to  meet  her  again.  JJv  Jove '  ebe'i 
as  handsome  as  au  angel,  though  proud  as  the  princo  of  fallen 
ones — Lucifer  himself." 

"  What  has  frighted  you,  Miss  Kate  ?  Who  has  harmed 
you  ?  Some  one  has  insulted  you.  If  I  thought  that — let  me 
go  back  and  thrash  the  fellow,  whoever  he  may  be." 

"  No,  no ;  go  with  me  home.  No  matter  for  the  man. 
Leave  him  alone  ;  since  I've  made  my  escape,  let  us  think  no 
more  of  him." 

"  If  he's  the  chap  I  have  half  a  notion  he  must  be,  from  the 
glimpse  I  caught  of  him,"  muttered  Ben,  beneath  his  clenched 
teeth,  and  expressively  doubling  his  clenched  fist,  "  I'd  return, 
and  not  leave  him  till  I'd  sent  every  tooth  he  has  down  his 
throat,  and  mashed  every  bone  he  has  in  his  skin  to  a  jelly." 

"  Why,  who  do  you  suspect  him  to  be,  Ben  ?  He  seemed  to 
aie  a  stranger  hereabouts.  I  have  never  seen  his  face  before. 
II.  >  no  one  of  the  neighbourhood,  I  think." 

"  If  it's  the  man  I  mean,  it's  Sir  James  Baddeley,  the  young 
baronet."  And  Ben  ground  something  between  his  teeth  that 
sounded  like  a  deep  bitter  curse. 

"  Sir  James  Baddeley  !  I  think  I  have  heard  Mr.  Huntley 
mention  him." 

"  Yes ;  he's  staying  up  at  our  place  now.  lie  has  often 
visited  at  Huntley  Lodge — more's  the  pity — before  now.  But 

I'll  keep  an  eye  on  him    and  if  it  be  he "  Ben's  tongue  left 

his  speech  unfinished  ;  but  his  look  concluded  it  fiercely  and  ex 
pressively. 

"  Ben,  you  must  not  think  of  resenting  this  man's  outrage. 
It  may  cost  you  your  place.  Think  of  White  Bcsa  and  Chestnut 
rhillis.  Care  uot  for  the  insult  to  me;  I  care  no  more  for  it 
myself,  I.OW  it  is  past." 

•  .May  be  not  altogether  for  your  sake,  I  owe  him  a  grudge 
Miss  Kate  :  but  no  matter,"  said  Ben. 

"  Give  up  revenge,  for  your  own,  Ben,"  said  Kate  Iretwi. 
"  Tis  for  more  than   my  own,"  muttered   Ji-  '»    h« 

»ddcd  something   in   a,  clearer   tone  about    tin:    liyrscs ;  tolling 
Kate  that  they  were  sleek,  and  well,  and  well  off. 


S98  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  And  I  trust  you,  Ben,  are  well  off  too.  I  hope  you  lik« 
your  place." 

"  It's  as  good  as  it  can  be,"  he  answered  ;  "  since  I'm  with 
Bess  and  Phillis,  and  since  I  can't  be  at  the  old  Hall,  I'm  as  well 
placed  as  I  could  wish.  Why,  there's " 

He  broke  off  suddenly,  as,  at  a  turn  of  the  path,  Ruth  Field 
came  in  sight.  The  slight  limp,  the  stoop,  the  frail  slender  fig- 
ure, announced  her  at  once. 

"  Why,  Ruthy,  you  have  ventured  far  ;  you  know  I  don't  ap- 
prove of  your  over-walking  yourself;  and  I  fear  you  have  come 
this  distance  on  my  account." 

"  I  grew  anxious  ;  it  became  so  late,  and  you  did  not  return,' 
answered  Ruth. 

"  Ben,  give  her  your  arm.     She  must  be  fatigued,  I  am  sure." 

But  though  Kate  Ireton  dropped  her  hold,  in  token  that  he 
should  give  all  his  care  and  support  to  Ruth,  Ben  did  not  offer 
them. 

"  I  shall  do  very  well,"  said  Ruth  Field.  "  I  am  getting 
much  stronger,  much  better  able  to  walk  than  I  used.  You  have 
made  me  a  new  creature,  I  think,"  she  said,  looking  up  at  Kate, 
with  her  soft  smile. 

"  Ben,  you  will  come  as  far  as  the  village  with  us  ;  you  will 
come  and  see  Matty.  Ruth  and  I  invite  you  in  her  name." 

Ben  glanced  at  Ruth  ;  but  as  she  kept  quietly  looking  down, 
while  she  moved  on,  and  said  no  word  in  fartherance  of  Kate's 
proposal,  he  stammered  out,  "  Thank  you,  Miss  Kate ;  I  thank 
ye  kindly  ;  but  I — I  think  I  can't  stay  longer.  I'd  best  return. 
And  now  you're  within  safe  distance  of  home.  So — so  I  leave 
you,  Miss  Kate." 

"  As  you  please,  Ben  ;  only  mind,  I  shall  hope  soon  to  hear 
more  news  of  Bess  and  Phillis." 

After  Ben  had  left  them,  Kate  made  Ruth  lean  upon  her, 
Baying  playfully,  "  Come,  since  you've  driven  abler  support  away, 
you  must  content  yourself  with  mine." 

"  Driven  away  !  "  said  Ruth. 

"  Yes  ;  what  was  your  cool  non-seconding  of  my  invitation, 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  399 

but  driving  the  poor  fellow  away  ?  "  said  Kate.  "  Ben  ia  mo 
dest,  and  wants  a  little  kindly  encouragement.  He  is  the  least 
forward  or  presuming,  of  any  young  man  I  ever  saw.  He  is  as 
humble  and  diffident  as  though  he  possessed  no  tithe  of  the  good 
qualities  he  really  possesses.  He  is  faithful,  constant,  and  firm 
in  his  attachment.  He  is  warm  in  feeling,  sterling  in  principle, 
and  high  in  honour,  though  no  higher  in  grade  than  a  simple 
stable-lad." 

"  No  one  knows  Ben  Dimble's  excellent  qualities  bettet 
than  I  do,"  said  Ruth  Field,  quietly,  but  earnestly.  Her  man- 
ner was  chiefly  remarkable  for  extreme  quietness  with  extreme 
earnestness. 

"  Then  why  did  you  not  show  a  little  more  graciouemess, 
when  there  was  a  question  of  his  coming  with  us  ?  " 

'•l  You  had  asked  him  ;  if  he  had  chosen  to  come,  that  might 
have  sufficed.  There  was  surely  no  need  of  my  adding  weight  to 
your  request.  But  who  arc  those  girls  he  spoke  of  ?  Fellow- 
servants  ?  " 

"  What  girls,  Ruth  ?  " 

"  Bess  and  Phillis ;  I  thought  he  mentioned  two  by  those 
names.  Or  you  did,  to  him.  And  I  imagined  they  might  be 
fellow-servants  of  his  formerly,  at  Heathcote,  in  whom  he — in 
whom  you  took  an  interest." 

Kate  threw  a  quick  bright  glance  at  Ruth.  Then  she  answer- 
ed smiling,  "  Fellow-servants  of  his,  did  you  say  ?  Well,  yes ; 
fellow-servants.'' 

"  What  kind  of  young  women  are  they  ?  "  said  Ruth,  pre- 
icntly. 

"  Not  young  women  at  all,"  said  Kate. 

••What  kind  of  girls,  then?" 

"  Not  girls,  either,"  answered  Kate. 

"Not  girls!  what  then  ?" 

"  Mares,"  replied  Kate,  drily.    "  White  Bess  was  my  favour 
ite  saddle-horse  ;  and  Chestnut  Phillis  was  my  dear  uncle 
Ruth  !  many  a  happy  gallop  have  we  had  on  those  two  beautiful 
matures  :    'And  <rood  B«-n  lovc.l  th-ni  so  veil  for  hi*  ..Id  master's 


tOO  THE    IKON    COUSIN. 

sake  and  for  mine,  that  he  would  have  followed  them  anywhere 
to  be  still  their  faithful  groom  and  attendant.  Kind-hearted 
excellent  Ben  !  " 

"  Kind-hearted  excellent  Ben  !  "  echoed  Ruth  Field. 

"  I  fancy  the  kind  heart  is  most  kindly  and  fully  devoted  to 
you,  Ruth,"  said  Kate. 

"  I  know  it  is,"  answered  Ruth  Field,  simply,  but  with  much 
feeling.  "  I  know  it,  and  I  am  sorry,  sincerely  sorry.  So  good 
a  heart  should  have  as  good  a  one  in  return." 

"  And  where  will  he  find  a  better  one  than  Ruth's  ?  "  replied 
Kate,  warmly. 

"  You  know  not  its  imperfections,  its  weaknesses,"  said  Ruth 
Field,  with  a  deep  blush.  "  I,  alas  !  know  them  but  too  well — 
am  only  too  deeply  conscious  of  them.  All  that  I  can  say  on  my 
own  behalf  is,  that  I  do  not  meanly  yield  to  them ;  they  arc  not 
felt,  without  a  struggle  to  subdue  them." 

"  It  is  all  that  we  can  any  of  us  endeavour  to  do,"  ai/.wered 
Kate,  with  an  inward  sigh. 

And  they  walked  on  in  silence. 


Time  went  on.  The  being  compelled  to  give  u^  her  walks 
was  a  severe  deprivation  to  Kate  Ireton.  It  rendered  doubly 
irksome  her  unwonted  toil  and  confinement ;  it  left  the  mental 
and  bodily  fatigue  of  the  day  unsucceeded  by  relaxation  ;  it  made 
the  close-pent  monotony  of  the  school-room  an  unrelieved  oppres- 
sion ;  it  gave  her  nothing  to  look  forward  to,  from  which  she 
might  reap  vigour,  fresh  spirit,  fresh  endurance. 

A  kind  of  lassitude  crept  over  her  frame  ;  a  degree  of  pallor 
stole  upon  her  face,  and  her  spirits  betrayed  a  certain  involuntary 
flagging.  Ruth  Field  had  gathered  the  reason  of  her  ceasing  to 
walk  out  after  school  was  over,  and  more  than  once  offered  to  go 
with  her ;  but  Kate,  fearing  lest  the  fatigue  should  be  too  much 
for  her  companion,  declined.  However,  after  some  time,  Ruth's 
health  and  strength  so  visibly  improved,  that  Kate  consented 


THE   WON    COUSIN.  401 

they  should  take  a  little  turn  by  tho  river-side  together,  at  first  j 
then  farther,  and  farther,  until  at  length  they  rambled  a  consid- 
erable distance. 

One  fine  half-holiday,  they  had  been  tempted  into   extending 
their  walk  beyond  their  usual  limits ;  and  they  found  them 
near  the  entrance  of  Worthington  Court 

Ruth  expressed  a  great  desire  to  see  the  place,  which  was 
celebrated  among  the  fine  country-scats,  saying  that  she  had  heard 
the  master  of  the  house  \vas  absent,  and  that  it  would  afford  an 
excellent  opportunity  of  gratifying  her  wish,  and  of  obtaining 
rest,  This  latter  plea  determined  Kate  Ireton  in  assenting. 

'•  You  know  Mr.  Worthington,  I  think  ?  I  remember  seeing 
you  with  him,  when  ho  came  that  morning  to  the  school-house  to 
pay  a  subscription  for  a  friend.  I  heard  who  he  was,  and  whc 
you  were,  for  I  asked  ;  the  incident  of  a  lady  and  gentleman  on 
horseback  calling  there,  causing  some  sensation  in  our  little 
community.  You  are  well  acquainted  with  him  ?  " 

"  We  are  cousins,"  said  Kate. 

"  Ah  !  then  there  can  be  no  difficulty  in  oar  gaining  access 
Though  I've  understood  he  does  not  object  to  strangers  seeing 
the  house,  and  grounds,  when  he  is  absent." 

An  old  woman,  nearly  bent  double,  now  came  forth  from  the 
Lodge. 

"  Ay,  sure,"  she  answered.  "  Master's  away,  and  the  servant* 
Lave  all  had  leave  to  go  for  a  holiday,  till  ho  comes  back.  I'm 
left  in  charge,  and  I  can  show  you  the  place,  well  enough.  What 
though  I'm  not  so  upright  as  I  used  to  be,  and  though  I've  lost 
my  hearing  a  bit,  and  my  old  eyes  are  not  so  good  as  they  were 
once  upon  a  time  ?  I'm  strong  and  hearty  yet,  and  I've  got  my 
faculties,  thank  God,  as  good  as  ever.'' 

Kate  saw  that  the  old  lodge-keeper  retained  no  recollection 

(,f  herself;  and  it  had  a  strange  kind  of  pleasure  for  her  to  find 

so.     She  could  the  more  unrestrainedly  enjoy  the  ploamini 

her  to  find  herself  here — unknown,  and  unobserved,  ai 

unexpectedly. 

They  stood  upoii  the  broad  stone  terrace.  The  slanting  beam* 


402  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

of  the  afternoon  sun  fell  upon  the  foliage  of  the  fine  old  trees 
casting  varied  light  and  shadow  upon  their  gnarled  trunks,  and 
upon  the  slendor  boles  of  the  younger-planted  ones,  and  bringing 
into  glowing  effect  the  verdant  lawns,  and  swelling  knolls,  and 
sweeps  of  park  scenery. 

"  What  a  pity  that  unsightly  building  should  be  stationed 
just  there  ! "  said  Ruth  ;  "  it  impedes  the  view,  and  is  ugly  in  it- 
self. I  wonder  the  owner  of  so  beautiful  a  spot  should  suffer  it 
to  remain." 

"  It  is  of  service  as  an  ice-house,  I  believe,"  said  Kate. 

"  What  did  ye  say  ?  A  nice  ho'use  ?  I  believe  you  !  "  said 
the  old  woman.  "  Few  seats  in  the  county  can  match  with  ours. 
The  mansion  is  a  perfect  pictur'.  All  the  folks  says  so  as  sees 
it." 

"  We  were  talking  of  the  ice-house  yonder,"  said  Ruth,  whose 
quiet  but  penetrating  tone  made  her  readily  understood  by  the  deaf 
dame.  "  I  was  wondering  why  it  should  be  allowed  there,  so  un- 
ornamental  as  it  is." 

"  Oh,  ah,  yes  !  it's  no  great  ornament,  to  be  sure  ;  but  there's 
reasons  for  its  being  kep'  up,  ye  see.  I  know  more  of  them  rea- 
sons, p'rhaps,  than  any  body  living.  Cur'ous  enough,  I  chanced 
to  come  acquainted  with  them  reasons,  when  not  a  soul  know'd  I 
know'd  'em.  I'll  tell  you  all  about  'em,  for  they're  cur'ous,  and 
it  was  cur'ous  how  I  come  to  know  'em." 

"  If  they're  a  secret,  don't  repeat  them,"  said  Kate. 

"What  does  she  say?"  said  the  old  woman,  appealing  to 
Ruth. 

"  That  if  those  reasons  are  a  secret,  you  should  not  repeat 
them." 

•'  Well,  they're  a  secret,  and  they're  not  a  secret.  Not  a  soul 
knows  'em,  I  fancy,  but  myself;  and  yet  if  the  whole  world  know'd 
'en,  it'd  only  be  the  more  to  master's  credit.  You  must  know,  a 
long  time  ago,  when  old  master  was  alive,  he  and  young  master 
(master  as  is  now)  was  standin'  on  this  here  terris,  just  as  wo 
might  be ;  and  they  fell  into  talk  about  yon  ice-house — young 
master  vowing  it  was  a  vile,  ugly  heap  o'  rubbish,  only  fit  to  bo 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  405 

pulled  down.  Old  master  was  one  who  never  liked  to  be  told 
anything;  but  chose  to  have  all  seem  his  own  notion,  and  his  own 
doing.  Well,  he  answered  mighty  stiff,  and  grand,  and  freezing 
— as  he  used  to.  Then  I  heard  young  master  answer  quick  and 
ha^tv,  as  if  he  was  provoked ;  and  then  he  said  he  didn't  want  to 
be  disrespectful,  but  he  did  think  the  ice-house  ought  to  come 
down  ;  it  was  so  hidgeous,and  so  in  the  gang-way.  Then  I  heard 
(I'd  conic  out  to  get  some  plaintain,  you  see,  for  my  canary-bird, 
knowing  it  growed  very  fine  and  plentiful  just  by  the  terris,  BO  I 
was  close  to  'em  both,  underneath,  in  the  shadow  of  the  terris,  and 
heard  'em  quite  plain, — more  by  token,  my  hearin'  waa  aa  quick 
as  a  mole's  then,  though  I  kep'  as  mute  as  a  fish  while  I  listened, 
and  I  heard)  high  words  pass  between 'em.  Some'at  about  being 
impertinent  and  meddlesome  from  old  master;  and  obstinate  and 
immovcable,  from  young  master.  And  then  old  muter  said: 
'  You  can  do  as  you  like,  when  I'm  dead  and  gone ;  you'U  be  mas- 
ter here  then.  Till  then,  I  am  master;  and  not  a  brick  shall  be 
touched.'  There  was  a  stop  of  a  sudden  ;  and  then  I  heard  young 
r  say :  '  :Tis  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  ever  forgot  my- 
.«rlf  to  you,  father;  it  shall  be  the  last  Forgive  me !  Never 
while  I  live  shall  a  stone  of  the  place  be  removed.'  Cur'ous 
enough,  an't  it,  I  should  chance  to  hear  how  that  old  ice-house 
is  left  to  stick  where  'tis.  And  stick  where  'tis  it  will,  to  the 
end  o'  time,  as  sure  as  my  name's  Dorcas  Price.  I  know  what 
stuff  young  master's  made  on.  He  does  what  he  ought,  through 
thick  and  thin.  If  that  heap  o'  rubbish  was  twioo  as  rubbishy, 
and  twice  as  ugly  as  'tis,  he'd  never  have  it  down,  as  long  as  he 
lived,  after  what  he'd  said  to  old  master.  And  for  my  part,  I 
tli ink  he's  right" 

14  So  I  think,  Dorcas,"  said  Rnth  Field. 

"  So  I  think,"  was  echoed  within  the  depths  of  Kate  Iroton'i 
•oal 


404  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 


CHAPTER    XLIV. 

•''  AND  now,  come  along,  and  I'll  show  you  the  house. '  said  old 
Dorcas,  hobbling  away  to  the  glass  door  which  gave  admission 
into  the  library. 

Kate  Ireton  lingered  for  a  moment,  letting  the  others  pass 
in  before  her,  as  she  looked  at  the  profusely  climbing  honey 
suckle.  A  few  late  blossoms  still  were  there,  although  the  sea- 
son was  advanced.  She  hastily  plucked  them  :  and,  prompted 
by  a  bashful  sensitiveness,  hid  them  within  the  bosom  of  hei 
gown  ;  forgetting  that  she  might  have  worn  them  openly  without 
risk. 

As  she  rejoined  Ruth  and  Dorcas,  the  latter  was  saying : 
"Yes,  tjhis  is  the  grand  libr'y — the  show-libr'y ;  and  a  fine 
spacious  room  it  is,  with  its  heaps  o'  books,  and  its  handsome 
lounging-chairs,  and  its  convenient  tables ;  but  there's  a  snug 
little  libr'y  up-stairs,  that  master  uses  as  his  own  private  sitt'n'- 
room,  that's  a  deal  cosier  to  my  thinkiu'.  And  he  seems  to  think 
so  too,  for  he's  fond  of  sitt'n'  there.  Afore  he  set  off  for  Scot- 
land, he  took  a  deal  o'  pains  with  that  little  room,  and  had  it 
refitted  and  re-done  up.  I'll  take  ye  to  see  it,  directly;  but 
first,  I  must  show  you  the  pictur'  o'  little  Fermor  Worthington, 
pretty  creatur'." 

"  A  portrait  of  Mr.  Worthington,  when  he  was  a  boy  ? " 
asked  Ruth. 

"No;  the  little  girl;  the  first  Fermor  Worthington,  that 
died  afore  young  master  was  born.  When  he  come  into  the 
world,  his  father  and  mother  give  him  the  same  name  as  the  child 
they'd  just  lost.  Queer  fancy,  warn't  it  ?  Though  a  pretty  un, 
too,  to  my  notion.  Howsumever,  the  pictur's  main  pretty  ;  aud 
so  like  young  master,  that  it  might  ha1  been  done  for  him  when 
he  wore  frock  and  sash.  There  s  the  same  dark  blue  eyes,  with 
the  srailin'  look  in  'em,  while  the  mouth  keeps  serious  aud 
jp-ave." 


TTU:  mox  COT  405 

'•  It  is  indeed  a  beautifnl  face — a  face  even  more  than  beau- 
tiful," Raid  Ruth,  softly.  «  Is  it.  not  ?  And  she  turned  in 
appeal  to  Kate  Ireton.  But  Kate  was  standing  looking  out  of 
the  nearest  window,  as  if  lost  in  thought. 

lluth  would  not  disturb  her,  but  contented  herself  with 
silently  enjoying  the  lovely  suggestive  expression  in  the  face  of 
the  child-portrait. 

Dorcas  now  led  the  way  up-stairs,  showing  them  the  magnifi- 
cent drawing-room  suite ;  and  then,  at  the  end  of  a  long  gallery 
threw  open  a  door,  saying,  "  This  is  master's  own  little  study- 
libr'y.'1 

It  had  the  same  aspect  as  the  large  one ;  while  its  single 
window  was  as  thickly  clustered  with  the  luxuriant  honey-suckle, 
as  the  glass-door  and  range  of  windows  below.  There  was  an 
extreme  simplicity  visible  in  the  appointments  of  this  small 
chamber.  A  single  chair,  a  plain  writing-table,  a  few  neat  book- 
shelves,  comprised  its  furniture ;  while  the  green-shaded  lamp 
which  stood  iu  one  corner,  seemed  to  proclaim  that  the  occupant 
spent  many  a  wakeful  vigil  during  the  night-hours,  in  assiduous 
.study.  But  there  was  one  circumstance  in  the  arrangement  of 
this  spot,  that  peculiarly  addressed  itself  to  Kate  Ireton's  notice. 
In  choicely  carved  oak  frames,  and  grouped  with  an  evidently 
careful  regard  to  their  best  disposal,  were  all  her  own  sketches. 
Crayon  drawings,  chalk  studies,  pencilled  outlines,  pen-and-ink 
illustrations,  water-colour  copies,  and  attempts  in  oil,  had  been 
all  diligently  collected  and  assembled  here. 

In  remembering  how  honestly  the  Iron  Cousin  had  OHM 
spoken  of  these  sketches,  viewed  solely  as  works  of  art,  Kate 
could  not  but  believe  that  another  motive  than  their  merit  mint 
have  caused  his  taking  the  pains  to  obtain  them,  and  place  them 
here,  in  his  own  sitting-room. 

"  He  has  a  sort  of  liking  for  his  wayward  cousin  Kate,  I  be- 
lieve, after  all,"  was  her  inward  sad-smiling  thought.  •«  Iu  spite 
of  her  faults — which  his  judgment  cannot  but  condemn — his  Uate 
disapprove— dtill,  t  think,  he  has  a  pitying,  compassionate,  half- 
tender  feeliui:  t-. \var-ls  h.-r.  as  towards  a  spoiled  child;  one  who 


406  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

might  have  been  worth  something,  had  not  Nature,  and  circum 
stance,  and  her  own  perverse  folly,  combined  to  render  her  good- 
for-nothing.  But,  since  he  is  master  of  this  noble  place,  and  I 
am  no  longer  upon  a  level  with  him  even  in  worldly  rank,  never 
shall  he  guess  she  was  capable  of  better  and  higher  value — de- 
serving of  better  and  dearer  esteem.  Let  him  still  believe  her 
faulty.  It  will  prevent  his  having  the  wish  to  discover  what  she 
would  fain  think  does  not  exist.  If  she  could  not  allow  its  ex- 
istence when  her  own  was  prosperous,  less  than  ever,  now,  will 
she  consent  to  think  that  it  can  be.  I  am  heart-free  as  he  is, 
though  we  have  each  a  mutual  odd  kind  of  liking,  that  will 
last  through  both  our  lives,  for  the  sake  of  what  might  have 
been  between  us,  had  he  been  less  perfect,  had  I  been  l^ss 
imperfect" 


On  their  way  home,  Ruth  Field  yielded  to  Kate's  frequent 
instances  that  she  should  stay  and  rest  at  intervals.  They  were 
sitting  on  the  spreading  root  of  an  old  tree,  under  a  hedge, 
when,  in  the  lane,  on  the  other  side,  they  heard  a  horse's  foot 
approaching.  The  rider  passed  quite  close  ;  but  the  seat  which 
Kate  and  Ruth  occupied,  was  so  screened,  that  although  they 
could  see  him  distinctly,  he  had  not  perceived  them. 

"  It  is  the  same  man  !  What  a  fortunate  escape  !  "  said 
Kate  Ireton,  drawing  a  deep  breath.  "  It  is  the  man  I  en- 
countered the  other  evening,  when  good  Ben  helped  me  out  of 
my  strait" 

She  turned  to  see  why  Ruth  made  no  reply.  Ruth  was  mute, 
pale,  and  trembling  violently. 

"  Why,  Ruthy  !  what  is  this  ?     You  know  that  man  !  " 

"  I  knew  him,"  faltered  Ruth,  turning  as  suddenly  red,  as  she 
had  before  been  white. 

"  And  he  treated  you,  as  he  treated  me,  with  insult,  with 
jutrage  ?  " 

Ruth  bowed  assent  "  Give  me  a  moment,"  she  gasped 
"  and  I  will  tell  you  how  it  was." 


THE    IRON    CO'  40? 

There  was  silence  for  a  space.  Then  Rath  Field  said,  in 
her  low,  equable  voice,  "  Before  my  accident — before  I  waa 
crippled  for  life — I  had  some  share  of — of — good  looks.  I 
know  not  why  I  should  hesitate,  since  I  speak  of  what  is  past 
and  gone.  At  that  time,  I  chanced  to  meet  this — this — to  meet 
him — at  a  Christmas  dunce,  which  'Squire  Huntley  gave  to  hia 
tenants  and  the  villagers,  in  the  old  hall,  up  at  the  Lodge,  when 
the  master  of  the  house,  and  his  lady,  and  their  visitors,  joined 
in  the  holiday  merry-making.  He  singled  me  out — he  made  me 
his  partner  through  the  evening.  He  came  to  father's  cottage 
next  day ;  he  haunted  my  walks ;  he  pursued  me  unceasingly. 
He  has  a  tongue,  subtle,  smooth,  ready.  How  could  I  believe 
that  all  he  said  was  untrue — was  a  mockery — a  snare  ?  He  pro- 
fessed to  love  me  fervently,  purely.  He  taught  me  to  think  he 
loved  me  sincerely,  faithfully.  I  gave  him  my  faith  in  return. 
I  gave  my  full,  free,  perfect  faith  to  one  who  cared  for  me  but  as 
a  toy,  a  pastime.  I  gave  credit  to  his  vowed  protest  that  he 
.sought  me  as'a  wife  ;  and  believed  him  when  be  swore  that  his 
sole  thought  was  how  to  bring  about  our  marriage.  But  my 
weak  trust  went  no  farther  than  the  sacrifice  of  my  girlish  heart, 
my  fond  affections.  Those  I  cost  at  the  foot  of  a  false  idol,  with 
the  lavish  reckless  confidence  with  which  youth  and  inexperience 
will  threw  away  their  treasures;  while  one  treasure  alone  was 
reserved — honour.  Peace  of  mind,  self-respect,  happiness,  were 
wrecked,  although  that  one  chief  possession  was  saved.  By  the 
same  stroke  of  fate  which  left  me  lame,  deformed,  and  stripped 
of  all  the  pretensions  to  beauty  which  my  face  could  once  boast, 
I  waa  left  beggared  of  hope,  of  love,  of  faith  in  vowed  truth. 
Without  one  parting  or  explaining  word  to  soften  the  cruel  blow, 
ha  forsook  me." 

Her  head  sank  upon  her  bosom,  as  Ruth  Field  closed 
her  simple  narrative  ;  and  she  sat  speechless,  motionless,  re- 
signed. 

And  is  it  possible  you  can  still  love  this  man  ?  "  said  Kate 
Treton,  after  a  pause. 

"  I    thought    I   had    taught   my    heart   worthier   strength," 


408  TUB    IRON    COUSIN. 

answered  Ruth ;  "  but  my  agitation  just  now,  at  sight  of  him, 
shows  how  weak  and  frail  it  still  is.  Yet,  even  now,  I  cannot 
but  trust  it  was  rather  the  remembrance  of  my  former  follv,  than 
any  present  weakness  which  overwhelmed  it.  That  it  should 
sink,  and  tremble,  and  quail  beneath  a  sense  of  shame  and  degra- 
dation for  having  once  yielded  itself  so  fondly  and  so  heedlessly, 
is  better  than  that  it  should  be  influenced  by  so  debasing,  so  un- 
worthy a  passion,  as  love  now  for  him  would  be." 

"  Keep  in  that  tone  of  mind,  Ruth,  and  both  peace  and  hap- 
piness may  yet  be  yours  to  recover,"  said  Kate,  pressing  her 
hand  firmly  and  affectionately. 

"  Ay,  but  self-respect  ?  Where  is  that  gone  ?  Never,  never 
to  be  retrieved.  How  can  there  be  self-respect,  where  there  is  a 
constant  sense  of  self-rebuke,  of  self-condemnation  ?  Did  I  not 
give  my  love  weakly,  rashly  ?  Did  I  not  yield  worship  to  a  false 
image — an  image  only  invested  by  my  own  foolish  fancy  with  its 
worthy  attributes  ?  " 

"  You  are  not  the  first  girl  by  scores  and  scores,  who  has  had 
to  repent  that  fallacious  idolatry,"  said  Kate.  "  Learn  to  look 
the  hollow  image  steadily  in  the  face,  and  behold  the  entire 
emptiness  of  its  claims  to  your  worship,  and  the  worship  will 
cease.  Self-reproach  is  hardly  for  error  of  such  kind.  The 
fitter  blame  is  for  those  who  miss  true  claims  to  their  worship, 
and  omit  not  only  to  offer  just  homage,  but  to  render  themselves 
worthy  worshippers.  Your  error  may  be  redeemed,  so  soon  as 
it  is  recognized.  You  have  already  discovered  it  to  be  delusion ; 
and  will  one  day  be  free  to  substitute  it  by  a  wise,  a  true  course. 
When  that  time  comes,  Ruthy,  you  will  be  able  to  do  full  justice 
to  Ben's  sterling,  honest  worth." 

"  It  is  because  I  do  his  worth  justice  now,  that  I  would  not 
do  it  the  injustice  to  give  it  an  affection  that  has  been  degraded 
by  a  weak  bestowal  before.  I  would  not  so  wrong  it,"  said 
Ruth,  conclusively.  "  This  balmy,  blessed,  peaceful  time^thia 
walk — this  sweet  evening — will  long  be  dear  to  my  remembrance," 
she  added.  "  It  has  opened  my  heart  to  the  relief  of  confession, 
and  to  the  comfort  of  a  friend's  encouragement." 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  409 

Ruth's  fervour  of  thanks  to  Kate  Ireton,  spoke  through  her 
mild,  expressive,  soft  brown  eyes. 

"  The  impression  of  the  entire  charm  of  this  pleasant  holiday 
ramble  will  ever  remain  one  of  those  rare  delicious  eras  in  a  life, 
which  are  hoarded,  enduring  delights  to  the  end  of  existence,' 
continued  she.  "  That  beautiful  place — those  fine  trees,  that  sun- 
lighted  park,  that  picturesque  mansion,  those  rich  and  tasteful 
rooms,  are  like  some  enchanting  vision,  yet  with  all  the  force  of 
reality.  They  haunt  me  with  such  a  power  of  vividness,  that  I 
seem  yet  to  smell  the  exquisite  perfume  of  that  woodbine  climber 
which  covers  one  side  of  the  house." 

In  her  consciousness,  Kate's  hand  had  nearly  stolen  to  the 
boddice  of  her  dress,  where  the  sweet  traitorous  honey-suckles  lay 
enshrined.  When  she  reached  home,  her  first  care  was  to  place 
them  in  her  linen-drawer,  where,  amid  lavender  and  rose-leaves, 
they  might  rest  secure,  without  a  chance  of  the  secret  fragrance 
they  had  for  her,  transpiring  with  their  natural  odour. 


And  still  time  went  on. 

lie-assured  by  frequent  walks  with  Ruth,  when  they  had  met 
no  one  but  an  occasional  home-returning  hind,  or  villagc-r..-iu'li- 
bour,  Kate  went  out  alone  one  evening  intending  to  go  no  farther 
than  the  river-side  walk.  But  falling  into  thought,  she  strayed  ft 
greater  distance  than  she  had  any  notion  of,  until  roused  by  seeing 
Sir  James  Baddel^y  riding  towards  her;  and  by  perceiving  that 
no  soul  else  was  within  sight,  while  the  path  there  was  very  lom-ly. 
and  sheltered  in  on  each  side  by  a  close  larch-plantation. 

She  reproached   herself    bitterly  for  her  caroleMnew,  but 
struggled  to  maintain  her  spirit  and  presence  of  mind, 
ed  erectly  on,  looking  straight  before  her,  as  if  not  perceiving  him 
as  he  came  forward. 

"  lYvtluv.  why  so  coy,  and  so  disregardful,  rhiM 
•  Do  not  pretend  not  to  know  me.     You  and  I  are  old  acquaints. 
ccs ;  and  now  that  the  loutish  >•       !'•  toawertft 

\- 


410  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

prior  claim,  let  us  improve  our  first  short  knowledge  of  each 
other." 

"  It  was  all-sufficing,"  answered  Kate.  "  No  need  to  renew 
it.  I  desire  nothing  better  than  that  we  remain  strangers." 

"  That  cannot  be ;  after  learning  so  much  of  you  as  I  did,  in 
that  one  interview,"  he  returned.  "  All  I  then  saw  made  me  only 
long  to  learn  more." 

"  And  all  I  then  learned  made  me  only  anxious  to  learn  no 
farther,"  she  said.  "  Pass  on  your  way,  sir,  if  you  please,  and  do 
not  molest  one  who  offers  you  no  disturbance." 

"  No  disturbance,  my  scornful  beauty !  What  do  you  call  this 
crossing  my  path,  this  dogging  my  steps,  this  filling  my  thoughts 
by  day  with  your  beauty,  this  haunting  my  dreams  by  night  with 
your  image  ?  I  think  this  is  disturbing  me  with  a  vengeance ! 
And  I  do  not  mean  to  let  it  pass  without  vengeance  in  return.  I 
shall  fine  you  heavily,  my  pretty  haughty  one,  and  mulct  those  lips 
for  the  payment."  And  he  rode  close  up  to  her. 

Kate  had  stood  by,  in  a  sort  of  recess  of  the  plantation-paling, 
to  let  him  pass  onward ;  so  that  by  his  movement  he  had  her  at 
formidable  disadvantage. 

"  How  say  you,  my  village-princess  ?  Hadn't  you  better  sur- 
render at  discretion?  You  can't  escape,  you  see." 

"  Sir,  since  I  cannot  force  you  to  ride  on,  my  bare  request 
should  suffice.  When  there  is  no  power  to  compel,  entreaty  ought 
to  have  weight,  if  you  possess  one  spark  of  that  manliness  which 
teaches  to  forbear  striking  a  male  foe  when  down,  or  insulting  a 
woman  without  resource.  Her  very  inability  to  cope  with  you, 
should  be  her  best  protection.  I  am  defenceless ;  and,  therefore, 
have  a  claim  upon  one  professing  himself  a  gentleman." 

"  By  Jupiter  !  your  speech  of  defence  arms  you  ail-sufficiently. 
Do  you  know  you  are  only  the  more  redoubtable  for  having  no 
weapons  but  those  flashing  eyes,  that  scornful  lip,  that  haughty 
ruicn,  those  disdainful  words  ?  They  provoke  me  to  assault ;  they 
incite  me  to  defeat  you,  my  rural  amazon.  Once  more,  will  you 
raise  the  siege,  and  yield  voluntary  submission  ?  Or  must  I  storm 
the  rosy  fortress,  and  take  the  fair  governor  herself  captive  ?  " 

"  Cowardly !  unmanly  .  "  burst  from  Kate's  lips. 


niE   IRON    COUSIN.  411 

"  You  are  only  urging  your  fate,  and  exhausting  the  mercy 
of  your  conqueror,"  he  said ;  "  I  would  fain  have  you,  for  your  own 
sake,  capitulate  and  make  truce.  I  would  rather  owe  my  tribute* 
money  to  your  own  concession,  than  to  my  force  of  arm.  Beware 
how  you  tempt  it." 

Kate  wrung  her  hands,  in  utter  despair  of  finding  one  plea 
that  could  avail  to  touch  such  a  man  as  he  before  her. 

M  By  Heaven !  your  pretty  distress  only  makes  you  doubly  be- 
witching. Come,  confess,  if  you  will  not  own  what  I  would  have 
you — yet  confess  what  I  know  is  raging  in  your  heart.  Confess 
that  you  wish  me  at  the  deviL" 

"  I  cannot  wish  you  lower  than  you  are  !  "  exclaimed  Kate, 
irrepressibly. 

These  words  brought  to  its  acme  the  libertine  excitement  of 
mingled  provocation  and  allurement  with  which  she  had  inspired 
him  all  along.  He  leaned  forward  to  seize  his  prey;  while  Kate 
uttered  a  piercing  scream. 

The  next  instant  she  heard  a  voice  that  vibrated  to  her  heart's 
core,  calling  loudly  and  authoritatively  upon  her  persecutor  to 
forbear. 

"  Do  you  not  see  your  attentions  to  that  lady  are  unwelcome  ?  w 
was  presently  added,  in  Fermor  Worthington's  sternest  and  moat 
calmly  contemptuous  tone. 

"  Lady !  " 

"  Ay, '  lady ; '  for  all  you  may  not  be  able  to  recogniie  one 
beneath  a  stuff  gown,  and  straw  bonnet;  nevertheless,  it  is  as  clear, 
to  any  true  sight,  as  that  a  '  gentleman '  is  not  always  to  be  found 
in  a  fashionable  coat,  kid  gloves,  and  a  perfectly  polished  bat" 

"  I'll  tell  you  what,  fellow " 

"  Do  not  class  me  so  low.  Whatever  your  rank.  I  rate  above 
y<>ur  fellow,"  answered  Fermor. 

"  By  what  right  do  you  interfere  between  me  and  that  — — 
rady?" 

"  By  the  right  of  common  manhood,  and  by  the  one  of  being 
uer  nearest  relation.  I  am  that  lady's  cousin." 

"  Her  '  cousin?'     Ob,  I  see;  "  sneered  he. 


112  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  No,  you  do  not  see.  On  the  contrary,  you  are  stone-blind 
to  all  that  is  honest  and  true.  Show  that  you  are  willing  to  regain 
your  sight,  by  offering  my  cousin  an  apology." 

There  was  a  sudden  setting  of  the  teeth,  and  an  almost  imper- 
ceptible raising  of  the  whip ;  when  Fermor  deliberately  stepped 
forward,  and  twisted  it  from  his  hand,  snapped  it  in  two,  and  flung 
the  fragments  into  the  ditch. 

"  If  you  want  indemnity  for  your  broken  whip,  I  shall  be  hap- 
py to  give  you  a  new  one — either  horsewhip  or  cane,  at  your  own 
choice.  I  am  to  be  found  at  Worthington  Court." 

"  Some  hireling  gamekeeper,  groom,  or  footman  there  I  pre- 
sume ?  " 

"  It's  master,"  answered  Fermor,  quietly. 

"  You  shall  hear  from  me." 

"  And  welcome;  though  the  news  be  of  one  so  little  worth 
hearing  from."  Then  turning  to  her  who  had  stood  a  breathless 
witness  of  the  scene,  he  said :  "  Come,  Kate,  let  me  see  you  home. 
Lean  on  me.  You  tremble  still.  The  Iron  Cousin's  kinswoman 
should  have  firmer  nerves." 

They  walked  on  for  some  way  in  silence.  At  length  Kate 
said :  "  You  will  not  meet  that  bold,  bad  man,  Fer — ,  cousin?  " 

"  Tush !  fear  not,  Kate.  We  shall  hear  no  more  of  him,  de- 
pend on't.  Dastard  and  poltroon  may  be  read  in  his  eye.  A  man 
of  courage  would  neither  have  borne  what  he  did  from  me,  nor 
offered  what  he  did  to  you," 

She  relapsed  into  silence,  striving  to  regain  composure.  The 
agitation  of  finding  him  so  near,  when  she  had  believed  him  so 
distant,  the  dread  lest  his  spirited  conduct  should  subject  him  to 
risk,  combined  to  keep  her  mind  in  conflict ;  but  beneath  all,  lay 
the  deep  joy  of  owing  to  him  her  recent  deliverance  :  and  still  she 
walked  on,  wrapped  in  her  own  thoughts. 

Her  speechless,  passive  mood,  seemed  coldness,  constraint, 
averseness  to  him  who  accompanied  her.  As  he  looked  upon  the 
ailent  figure  beside  him,  the  head  hidden  under  the  close  poke  bon- 
net, Fermor  felt  inexpressibly  baffled  and  tantalized.  He  bade 
himself  draw  patience  from  the  belief  that  she  was  recovering  her 


TIIK    IRON    CO!  418 

spirits  from  their  late  alarm;  and  that,  her  home  once  rcachod,  he 
should  behold  her  bare-headed,  without  the  hateful  bonnet ;  should 
obtain  full  view  of  that  face  dearer  to  him  than  aught  living,  and 
satisfy  his  yearning  to  look  upon  it,  and  gather  from  its  mien  and 
expression  how  she  had  fared  since  last  he  had  seen  it  fully, — in 
*he  height  and  bloom  of  youth,  and  health  and  prosperous  exist* 
once.  It  was  the  haunting  thought  of  that  face  which  had  caused 
him  abruptly  to  return  from  his  Highland  sojourn.  It  was  the  ef- 
fect of  all  involved  in  the  remembrance  of  that  face,  which  impel- 
led him  to  come  back.  It  was  the  ever-present  idea,  embodied  in 
the  single  image  of  that  beauteous  and  most  beloved  face — all  the 
more  tenderly  beloved,  for  the  profound  desire  to  beholdats  owner 
entirely  worthy  of  its  sweet  perfection, — which  had  irresistibly 
impelled  Fermor  to  make  all  other  considerations  yield  to  the  one 
imperative  necessity  again  to  look  upon  it,  to  tender  it  his  secret 
devotion,  to  dedicate  himself  to  cherishing,  shielding,  and  guard- 
ing it,  as  much  as  in  him  lay,  from  care  and  sorrow. 

Kate's  influence  upon  the  Iron  Cousin  h ad  never  been  more  po* 
tent  than  now,  when  he  resolved  to  abjure  all  feeling  of  self,  in  the 
disinterested  attachment  he  vowed  henceforth  to  her.  It  prompt- 
ed  him  to  return  and  brave  all,  rather  than  absence.  It  gave  him 
strength  to  place  all  his  hope  in  that  of  being  useful  to  her,  by 
being  near  her;  and  although  unpermitted,  unaccepted,  his  vicini- 
ty might  avail  her  as  a  protection.  Even  though  his  presence 
should  be  undesired,  and  his  care  unrequired — yet  so  long  an 
neither  were  expressly  rejected,  but  merely  negatively  or  tacitly 
declined,  he  would  be  at  hand  to  let  them  operate  in  her  favour, 
should  occasion  permit. 

And  now,  as  Fermor  Worthington  thought  of  what  his  chance 
arrival  had  just  rescued  her  from,  he  blessed  the  impulse  to  which 
he  had  yielded,  that  had  brought  him  to  her  Bide  once  more.  With- 
in his  soul,  he  re-vowed  to  abide  near  her  at  all  event*,  at  all 
;  to  smother  his  own  regrets  and  di-sircs,  that  ho  might  tx 
r  tbc  calm,  helpful  friend,— the  watchful,  protecting  kia» 
man. 


114  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

THIS  is  my  cottage  home.  Let  me  bid  you  welcome  to  it,"  said 
Kate,  as  they  entered  the  porch  together ;  and  she  turned  and 
gave  him  her  hand,  with  a  smile  of  gentleness,  in  which  gratitude 
for  his  late  assistance,  and  pleasure  to  see  him  here,  mingled  in 
simple  but  speaking  expression.  "  You  see  it  is  neither  miser- 
able nor  squalid — nor  even  so  plain  and  humule,  as  your  exagger- 
ated anxiety  for  my  comfort  led  you  to  picture  to  yourself.  You 
see  the  village  school-mistress  lodges  pleasantly  ;  and  none  the 
worse,  for  her  having  learned  formerly  to  value  tasteful,  refining 
environments."  And  Kate  glanced  round  with  allowable  pride, 
at  the  pretty  cottage-parlour,  in  its  careful  arrangement  and  adorn- 
ment. 

Fermor's  eye  followed  hers ;  and  then  he  quoted  with  a  play- 
fulness which  served  to  cover  a  profounder  feeling  : 

"Happy  is  your  grace, 

That  can  translate  the  stubbornness  of  fortune 
Into  so  quiet  and  so  sweet  a  style." 

The  next  moment  Ruth  Field  came  hastening  down  stairs,  to 
receive  Kate  ;  who  presented  her  to  her  cousin,  Mr.  Worthing- 
ton,  briefly  mentioning  an  unpleasant  encounter  from  which  he 
had  been  the  timely  means  of  delivering  her. 

"  Let  me  take  your  bonnet;  yau  look  pale,  wearied,  disorder- 
ed ;  no  wonder.  Let  me  place  you  a  chair  here  ;  and  sit  quietly, 
while  I  wait  upon  you.  It  is  my  turn  to  wait  now — for  once — 
upon  the  head-monitress,"  said  Ruth  with  her  placid  smile. 

"  And  Ruthy,  play  your  part  of  mistress  of  our  cottage,  and 
give  my  cousin  and  myself  some  tea.  We  will  show  Mr.  Wor- 
thington  that  village  school-teachers  know  how  to  make  tea,  with 
any  lady  of  the  land ;  they  should,  for  it  is  their  darling  luxury 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  415 

of  refreshment.  Both  he  and  myself  will  bo  right  glad  of  the 
fuming  liquor  that  at  once  gratifies  scent  and  taste,' — that '  cheen 
but  not  inebriates,' — that  brings  exhilaration  to  both  frame  and 
spirits.  The  Iron  Cousin  will  not,  I  think,  disdain  the  puny  in- 
vigoration  that  lies  in  creamy  tea,  with  home-made  bread  and 
butter,  after  his  knightly  exploit  with  a  Sansloy,  Sansfoy,  and 
Sansjoy,  united  in  one." 

"  If  the  knights  of  old  could  have  commanded  tea  and  bread 
and  butter  such  as  this,  after  their  achievements,  their  prowess 
would  have  been  no  matter  of  marvel,"  smiled  Fermor.  "  They 
would  have  reaped  more  force  of  arm  from  one  cup  and  one  slice 
than  from  all  the  enchanted  goblets  that  ever  dispensed  invinci 
bility." 

As  the  pleasant  cottage  meal  proceeded,  amidst  light,  cheerful 
talk,  Fermor  had  full  opportunity  to  note  the  change  that  had 
been  wrought  in  Kate  Ireton's  appearance. 

Like  many  men  of  imperturbed  demeanour  and  exterior  calm, 
with  apparently  unimpressionable  natures,  Fermor  Worthington 
was  really  capable  of  powerful  impression ;  and  was  even  keenly 
susceptible  upon  points  of  comparatively  slight  moment.  He  was 
singularly  alive  to  refinement  in  dress,  as  a  part  of  the  refinement 
ho  recognized  in  personal  beauty.  For  one  so  outwardly  dispas- 
sionate the  effect  produced  by  the  single  memorable  occasion  when 
he  had  seen  Kate's  loveliness  of  person  to  best  advantage,  by  the 
aid  of  full  dress — the  ball  dress — was  strangely  strong.  It  had 
required  all  his  force  of  self-command  to  repress  the  admiring 
words  that  sprang  to  his  lips,  from  the  passionate  senae  of  her 
beauty  with  which  his  heart  and  imagination  were  filled ;  while 
her  own  repellent  behaviour  at  the  time  had  helped  to  chill  and 
calm  him. 

But  on  ordinary  occasions  his  taste  had  been  gratified  by 
Kate's  tasteful  simplicity  in  drew.  There  wa»  one  point,  in 
which,  with  the  pardonable  vanity  of  her  age,  she  had1  allowed 
herself  a  somewhat  extravagant  niceuess;  she  wa»  always  fulid- 
iuu.sly  and  daintily  shod.  She  wore  the  most  delicate  silk  shoe* 
and  stockings, — the  neatest  satin  or  kid  alippera — in-doors :  and 
the  very  trimmest  of  riding-boots,  or  walking-shoe*,  abroad. 


416  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

Now,  therefore,  when  Fermor  saw  her  wearing  stout,  thick- 
soled  leather  shoes,  such  as  no  woman  but  a  nun,  or  a  milk- 
woman,  would  choose  to  wear,  he  felt  more  pained  than  could 
have  been  supposed,  by  those  who  know  not  how  actually  trifles 
affect  the  gravest-seeming  people. 

Another  circumstance  also  hurt  Fermor's  sensitive  delight  in 
Kate's  beauty.  She  had  remarkably  fine  abundant  hair  ;  which 
had  formerly  been  suffered  to  fall  in  thick,  rich  curls  on  either 
side  her  face,  and  lie  at  their  shining  length  upon  her  bosom. 
But  now, — partly  in  pursuance  of  Mr.  Scrinipum's  hint, — partly 
from  feeling  that  they  would  be  more  out  of  her  way,  in  her 
present  daily  toil  and  attention  to  children,  Kate  had  smoothed 
Dack  all  her  luxuriant  tresses,  and  wore  them  plainly  braided 
round  her  head. 

But  that  which,  far  more  than  all  the  rest,  struck  him  in  her 
appearance,  and  filled  him  with  regret  unutterable,  was  to  per- 
ceive the  inroads  which  sorrow  for  her  uncle,  anxiety,  thought, 
continuous  exertion,  and  incessant  confinement,  had  made  upon 
her  brilliancy  of  complexion, — that  clear,  bright,  transparent 
colour  of  cheek  and  lips,  which  had  once  been  unparalleled  in  its 
lustre  of  youthful  health,  happiness,  and  heart-ease. 

As  Fermor  Worthington  detected  its  loss,  he  felt  he  could 
have  bought  it  back  at  the  expense  of  seeing  her  once  more  her 
old  spoiled,  wilful,  haughty  self;  and  yet  his  truer  sense  per- 
ceived a  higher  beauty  still,  in  the  softened  tone,  the  gentler 
grace  of  goodness,  and  patience,  and  virtuous  endurance,  that 
now  lent  an  inexpressible  charm  to  Kate's  air.  If  she  less  moved 
his  admiration,  she  only  the  more  forcibly  attracted  and  riveted 
his  love. 

All  the  while  this  secret  comment  had  been  proceeding  with 
in  Fermor's  heart,  he  had  maintained  his  share  in  the  careless 
running  talk  that  had  been  going  on  aloud.  In  the  course  of  it, 
he  could  not  help  alluding  to  the  undue  confinement,  and  want 
of  exercise  and  open  air,  to  which  Kate's  occupation  subjected 
her. 

"  How  shall  I  hope  to  content  the  Iron  Cousin  ?  "  she  said 


THE    IRON    CO'  417 

laughing.  "  Once  ho  reproved  me  for  not  enduring  tho  '  poof 
emell '  patiently  for  five  minutes ;  and  now  that  1  bear  it  uiiiuur 
muringly  all  day  long,  and  one  day  after  another,  he  is  n<  • 
pleased!  There's  no  satisfying  him.  He's  insatiable.  He 
must  always  object,  and  want  Cousin  Kate  to  be  doing  something 
contrary  to  that  which  she  is  disposed  to  do,  whatsoever  that  may 
!><•.  If  he  had  succeeded  in  becoming  one  of  the  Directors,  lie 
would  as  surely  have  opposed  her  election,  and  prevented  her 
succeeding  '  Lemon-face,'  as  he  would  have  turned  out  •  Lrmon 
face  '  herself.  I've  reason  to  be  thankful  he  was  not  one  of  the 
board  of  Directors,  when  I  canvassed  for  the  situation." 

Fermor  fervently  echoed  in  spirit  the  thanksgiving,  as  he 
thought  what  he  had  been  spared. 

"  The  unreasonable  objective  personage  objected  to  '  Lemon- 
and  he  objects  to  me.  He  deemed  her  too  crabbed  for  the 
office,  and  he  thinks  me  too  something  or  other.  He  didn't  like 
'  Lrmon-face,'  and  he  don't  approve  of  me.  He  didn't  admiru 
the  old  hcad-monitress,  and  he  isn't  pleased  with  the  new.  I  don't 
ku»w  what  he  would  have,  for  my  part  !" 

Fermor  smiled,  for  all  reply. 

•  Nay,  but  what  would  you  have,  you  most  contradictious  aud 
oppugnant  of  beings  ?  "  insisted  she. 

Well,  perhaps  I  would  have — for  the  monitrcss — something 
between  the  two.  If  I  thought '  Lemon-face '  too  bad  for  tin; 
place,  I  thiuk  my  Cousin  Kate  too  good.  If  I  didn't  want  tlio 
poor  children  to  have  a  sour  hag  over  them,  neither  do  I  think 
they  need  have  a — " 

He  broke  off;  turned  away  ;  and  absently  took  up  one  of  the 
:>uoks  that  lay  upon  the  little  side-table.  It  chanced  to  b«  • 
],.»  in  on  tho  subject  of  Italy,  enriched  with  illustrative  engrav- 
ings after  eminent  artists.  In  the  blank  loaf  before  the  titlr- 
page,  there  was  inscribed  :— "  Kate  Ireton,  from  Cecil  Lascelle*.' 

As  Ferraor's  glance  fell  upon  the  written  words,  a  hot  1 
came  into  Kate'?  face  ;  and  as  he  raised  his  eyes  tho  next  instant* 
they  beheld  it  there. 

*Kati-  Ireton  could  never  think  of  Cecil  -still  lew  bear  allu- 
18* 


418  THE  IRON  cousm. 

sion  to  him, — without  betraying  a  painful  consciousness.  Sh« 
^ould  not  but  remember  what  had  passed  between  them ;  it  was 
the  only  time  she  had  witnessed  anything  of  the  passion  of  love, 
and  it  moved  her  deeply.  She  was  not  like  a  hackneyed,  sea- 
soned young  lady,  who  has  had  her  half  dozen  love-affairs,  during 
successive  London  winters.  She  had  no  notion  of  flirting,  or  co- 
quetting. Her  ideas  of  love  were  all  earnest,  profound,  serious  ; 
the  ideas  of  a  fresh,  true,  unpractised  heart. 

That  blush  was  like  a  burning  stab  to  Fermor  "Worthington  ; 
and  he  hastily  turned  over  the  leaves  of  the  book,  to  conceal  his 
emotion.  Amid  them,  he  saw  a  cluster  of  dried  forget-me-nots  ; 
ai.d  feeling  as  if  he  had  trespassed  upon  hallowed  ground — ground 
sanctified  by  tokens  of  interchanged  affection,  and  blissful  mu- 
tual attachment — ground  that  should  be  sacred  from  alien  intru 
sion,  and  from  others'  eyes — he  abruptly  closed  the  book. 

Had  he  dared  to  look  at  Kate's  face,  he  would  have  seen  a 
still  more  vivid  tell-tale  colour  upon  her  cheek,  at  sight  of  those 
forget-me-nots  beneath  his  observation — in  his  very  hands. 

But  he  steadily  averted  his  glance  ;  and  looking  up  at  the 
Italian  sketch,  he  added  something,  in  a  level  tone,  of  her  un- 
fading admiration  for  her  favourite  land.  He  had  not  failed  to 
observe  that  this  was  the  only  drawing  she  had  brought  away 
with  her  from  her  old  home ;  and  although  the  circumstance  of 
its  containing  her  uncle's  portrait  might  sufficiently  account  for 
her  desire  to  preserve  it,  yet  Fermor  could  not  help  believing 
that  another  likeness  it  contained  might  have  had  a  share  in  in- 
ducing the  desire  to  have  it  always  with  her.  He  had  from  the 
first  felt  a  vague  reluctance  in  recognizing  the  fond  recollection 
she  entertained  for  her  Italian  sojourn,  as  a  period  in  which  lie 
himself  had  formed  no  part  of  her  existence  ;  but  of  late  he  had 
come  to  shrink  from  it,  believing  that  it  was  tenderly  associated 
in  her  mind  as  the  scene  of  her  first  acquaintance  and  intercourse 
with  Cecil  Lascelles. 

Kate  replied  in  a  like  manner  with  his  own  ;  and  after  a  few 
more  casual  sentences,  Fermor  rose  to  go. 

"  And  since  the  Iron  Cousin  has  been  permitted  to  invade 


THE   IRON    COUSiN.  419 

your  cottage  retreat,  as  formerly  your  study-dens,  Kate,  ho  will 
hope  to  find  no  exclusion  for  the  future,"  he  said.  "  He  nuu 
expect  admission,  Kate?  " 

"  He  may  expect — he  will  find — welcome,"  she  answered. 


The  whole  of  next  day  passed  in  a  torture  of  suspense  to  Kate 
ireton.  She  went  through  her  school  duties  mechanically ;  she 
pursued  her  avocations  with  the  methodical  precision,  yet  mind- 
less un-guidance  of  a  sleep-walker.  Her  eole  spontaneous  effort 
was  to  preserve  her  patience  unabated,  her  temper  unclouded, 
while  engaged  directly  with  the  children ;  she  felt  that  she  had 
no  right  to  make  them  suffer  for  her  secret  uneasiness;  and  she 
succeeded  so  far,  as  to  preserve  her  superintendence  of  them  free 
from  :i  hint  of  crossness  or  sharpness.  But  her  attention  flagged, 
IHT  thoughts  wandered,  her  vigilance  drowzed.  Her  whole  soul 
was  engrossed  with  the  thought  of  how  Fermor  Worth ington's 
encounter  with  Sir  James  Baddeley  would  terminate ;  whether 
it  would  end  in  the  coward  baronet's  letting  the  matter  rest 
where  it  was,  or  whether  it  would  result  in  his  sending  a  chal- 
lenge, and  seeking  to  obliterate  his  dishonourable  conduct  and 
dishonouring  treatment  in  bloodshed  and  farther  outrage. 

With  the  cessation  of  school-hours,  her  longing  for  some  pe- 
riod to  her  solicitude  arose  to  an  almost  intolerable  pitch.  She 
was  going  restlessly  forth,  without  any  definite  purpose,  when  she 
met  Ben  Diinble,  at  the  very  entrance  of  the  river-side  walk. 
She  turned  back  with  him,  and  paced  to  and  fro,  listening  to  what 
lie  came  to  tell  her. 

"  You  needn't  to  fear  being  troubled  by  him  any  more,  Miss 
Kut. -,"  said  Ben.  "  You  can  walk  out  in  peace  now.  And 
knowing  you'd  be  glad  to  hear  this,  I  came  off  as  soon  as  I  oould 
get  away,  to  bring  you  word.  He,  and  another  young  t\ 
quality  as  is  visiting  up  at  our  place,  arc  off  together  on  a  trip 
to  Swisscrland,  quite  sudden;  so  we're  quit  of  him  for  ooewbiU. 
thank  God  !  •' 


420  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

Kate  Ireton  echoed  the  ejaculation  earnestly,  fervently. 

By  a  few  fierce-muttered  words  which  Ben  added,  Kate  per 
ceived  on  whose  account  it  chiefly  was  that  he  owed  this  man  sc 
deep  a  hatred,  and  rejoiced  so  heartily  he  was  gone. 

"  Ben,"  she  said,  "  I  sincerely  thank  you  for  coming  to  tell 
me  this.  You  know  not  the  load  it  has  taken  from  my  muni.  It 
has  relieved  me  of  fearful  apprehensions.  For  Ruth's  sake,  too 
— for  yours — I  rejoice  that  this  man  has  left  us  for  ever." 

Ben  sighed.  "  Do  you  think  it  wo'n't — wo'n't  fret  her,  Miss 
Kate,  to  know  that  he  is  gone?  "  he  said  timidly. 

"  No ;  I  am  sure  that  it  will  not.  Ruth  has  too  just,  too 
noble  a  sense  of  what  is  truly  good,  to  retain  any  regret  for  so 
bad  a  man  as  he." 

"  Do  you  think  so,  Miss  Kate — do  you  truly  think  so  ?  " 

"I  do  ;  and  moreover,  I  think,  Ben,  that  when  she  has  over- 
come the  sense  of  shame  that  besets  her  now,  for  having  once 
loved  so  unworthily,  she  will  come  to  perceive  where  she  might 
love  more  wisely,  more  worthily." 

"  Shame  !  "  exclaimed  Ben,  hotly.     "  How  is  she  shamed  ?  " 

"  She  feels  herself  degraded  by  the  bestowal  of  her  affection 
upon  one  who  slighted  it ;  and  would  think  she  wronged  your 
heart  by  giving  it  one  which  had  thrown  itself  away  before. 
But  you,  Ben,  love  her,  and  think  none  the  worse  of  her  for  an 
innocent  error — the  mistake  of  a  young,  generous,  inexperienced 
girl." 

"  Should  I  love  her  less,  because  she's  been  too  believing  T 
Should  I  love  her  less,  because  she's  been  hard  used  ?  I  should 
surely  love  her  all  the  better,  and  I  do.  Am  I  to  think  worse 
of  her  because  she's  been  bad  treated  ?  She's  not  shamed  ! 
The  shame's  his  !  "  said  Ben. 

"  Yet  she  feels  herself  lowered,"  said  Kate. 

"  She  must  always  be  much  above  me  !  "  sighed  Ben. 

"  But,  feeling  as  she  does,  Ben,  you  must  give  her  time  ;  you 
must  give  her  time,"  said  Kate.  "  I  am  not  without  hope  for 
you  ;  you  must  not  be  hopeless  for  yourself.  I  noticed  a  look  in 
her  face,  when  I  first  mentioned  you  to  her,  and  a  curious  little 


THE    IRON    COOMM.  TJl 

question  about  our  Bess  and  Phillis,  Ben,  and  one  or  two  otbci 
slight  things  in  my  friend  Rutby's  manner,  whenever  you  have 
been  in  question  between  us,  that  give  me  very  good  hope, 
Ben;  and  I  dcsiro  you'll  keep  good  hope,  too,  Ben-  do  you 


"  Ay,  Miss  Kate  :  I  mind  that  you're  kindly  willing  to  en- 
courage a  poor  lad.  And  even  that  shall  serve  to  keep  him  it 
good  heart.  God  bless  you,  Miss  Kate  !  " 

And  Ben  turned  to  go  back  to  Huntley  Lodge  ;  while  Kate 
sped  back  home,  her  heart  lightened  of  its  great  fear. 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 

1  T  was  not  long  ere  Fermor  Worthington  availed  himself  of  tho 
granted  permission  to  return  to  the  school-house  cottage.  Ho 
was  full  of  a  project  he  had,  for  inducing  Kate  to  take  exercise 
on  horseback,  as  a  means  of  regaining  health  and  bloom. 

"  You  must  not  deny  me,"  he  said,  earnestly.  "  I  will  como 
and  fetch  you  after  school-hours,  or  half-holidays — when  you 
will.  You  shall  appoint  your  own  times  for  riding,  only  do  noi 
refuse." 

"  I  have  no  horse." 

"  I  will  bring  you  a  horse ;  nay,  you  shall  have  White  Best 
herself,  if  you  will  but  consent." 

"  If  I  had  a  horse,  I  could  not  ride— I  have  no  habit" 

"  You  had  one  ;  what  is  become  of  it  ?  " 

"  I  have  it  no  longer  ;  I "  she  interrupted  herself  with  • 

laugh.  "  What  could  a  poor  school-teacher  want  with  a  riding- 
nabit  ?  It  was  of  no  use  to  mo  ;  I  gave  it  away." 

"  To  whom  ?  " 
A  blunt  question !     Why  do  you  ask 

"  Because  I  can't  think  of  any  one  about  here  to  whow  • 
riding-habit  would  be  of  any  use." 


422  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  But  a  riding-habit  is  made  of  good  cloth,  and  good  cloth  is 
useful  for  many  things.  I  ripped  up  the  breadths,  and  they 
made  excellent "  She  stopped,  then  went  on,  still  laugh- 
ing, "  I  really  don't  know  why  I  answer  all  your  cross-question- 
ing, excepting  that  I  have  a  bad  habit  of  obeying  the  Iron 
Cousin." 

"  Of  obeying  him,  Kate  ?  "  smiled  Ferrnor. 

"  Of  attending  to  him,"  she  said ;  "  of  noticing  him  and 
his  inquiries,  of  following  his  lead,  and  responding  to  his 
demands." 

"  Nay,  I  cannot  allow  so  far  as  that,"  he  rejoined;  "  the  ut- 
most I  can  admit  is,  that  you  certainly  never  fail  to  answer 
him." 

"  And  that  is  no  slight  concession,  where  the  questions  are 
im "  she  smiled,  as  she  checked  herself. 

"  Impertinent  ?  " 

"  Importunate  ;  where  they  amount  to  a  cross-examination." 

"  Well,  then,  to  return  to  the  point  of  cross-examination — 
your  riding-habit." 

'*  Suffice  it,  that  I  didn't  want  the  habit,  and  I  knew  some 
one  to  whom  the  cloth  would  be  useful." 

"  Matty,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  No,  not  Matty." 

"  Ruth  Field,  then  ?  " 

"  No,  nor  Ruth  Field,"  said  Kate. 

"  What  are  you  saying  about  me,  monitress  ?  "  said  Ruth's 
quiet  tone,  as  she  came  into  the  room  just  then. 

"  That  you  have  not  had  a  cloak  out  of  the  cloth  from  my 
riding-habit,  Ruth.  You  will  bear  me  witness,  I  speak  nothing 
but  the  simple  truth  in  that,  won't  you  ?  Here's  my  good 
cousin,  Mr.  Worthington,  very  hard  to  convince  that  I  have  no 
riding-habit,  because  he  wants  me  to  ride.  A  pretty  figure,  truly, 
either  you  or  I,  Ruthy,  humble  school-teachers  as  we  are,  should 
sut,  mounted  on  horseback  !  Preposterous  1 " 

Ruth  returned  Kate's  smile,  with  her  own  calm  and  gentl« 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  42] 

»ne      Then  she  said,  «  No ;  the  cloth  was  turned  to  better  pur- 
pose than  either  cloak  or  habit." 

"  Never  mind  that,"  replied  Kate,  quickly.  "  Enough,  that 
the  riding-habit  is  no  longer  in  existence;  and  if  it  were,  I 
should  not  think  of  riding.  The  Iron  Cousin  himself,  with  hi« 
knowledge  of  what  is  right  and  what  is  fitting,  and  with  his  strict 
adherence  to  what  is  right  and  fitting,  even  when  it  chances  to  be 
the  reverse  of  pleasant,  will  be  the  first  to  agree  that  riding  on 
horseback  is  not  to  be  thought  of  for  me  now.  So,  that  point 
settled,  I  am  away  to  the  children.  Good  bye,  cousin ;  school- 
hour  has  struck." 

"  Stay,  Ruth — one  moment,"  said  Fermor  Worthington,  M 
Ruth  Field  was  preparing  to  follow  Kate.  "  Will  you  tell  me 
what  really  became  of  that  habit  ?  " 

"  Miss  Ireton  had  heard  Mrs.  Meadows  say,  the  younger 
children  wanted  winter  pelisses,  but  that  new  ones  couldn't  be 
afforded  this  season  ;  so  she  cut  up  her  habit  into  warm  little- 
coats,  glad  to  find  she  had  something,  she  said,  which  could  be 
made  acceptable  to  one  who  bad  been  so  kind  a  friend  to  her. 
It  was  very  pleasant  work  the  cutting  them  out,  and  making 
them  up,  after  school-hours,  of  an  evening;  for  Miss  Ircton 
kindly  told  me  I  could  help  her  very  much,  though  I  know  she 
K.I  id  so,  that  I  might  fancy  myself  of  use  to  ber,  and  to  1 
share  her  pleasure.      When  the  pelisses  were  finished,  she  felt 
some  trepidation  in  carrying  them  up  to  the  Vicarage,  lest,  after 
all,  it  should  be  looked  upon  as  a  liberty ;  but  kind,  good  Mrs. 
M(  ;ulows  took  the  gift  so  amiably,  and  seemed  so  pleased  in  try 
ing  them  on.  and  remarking  how  smart  and  cosy  they  made  her 
little  ones  look,  that  Miss  Iroton  declared,  as  we  walked  home 
together  afterwards,  she  never  could  hare  thought  even  that 
riding-habit  would  have  given  her  so  much  pleasure.     '  Yet  I  w»J 
very  happy  when  I  wore  it,  Ruth,'  she  added  with  a  look  often 
der  sadness  coming  into  her  eyes;  and  I  could  see  she  wa*  think 
inir  of  her  uncle." 

The  look  Ruth  spoke  of,  might  have  been  seen  reflected  in 
.hose  of  Frrmnr  Worthinirtnn,  as  he  turned  away,  after  low- 


124  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

spoken  but  cordial  thanks  to  the  sub-inonitrcss  for  her  answei 
to  his  question,  and  mounted  his  horse,  and  rode  slowly  home. 


By  several  means  did  Fermor  Worthington  seek  to  rendei 
Kate's  straitened  circumstances  less  felt.  He  endeavoured 
imperceptibly  to  supply  some  of  those  luxuries  to  which  she  had 
been  habituated,  and  of  which  he  could  not  bear  to  see  her  de- 
prived. But  her  sincere  intention  to  preserve  her  independence  ; 
her  vigilant  jealousy  as  to  their  peculiar  relative  position — he,  the 
owner  of  Worthington  Court,  she,  a  poor  teacher ;  and  her 
straightforward  way  of  preventing  his  purposes,  by  direct  pre- 
vious refusal,  before  they  were  actually  put  in  practice,  made  hi? 
task  a  difficult  one,  and  generally  defeated  its  end,  when  it  pro- 
posed a  too  generous  arrangement  for  her  benefit. 

One  of  his  wishes  was  to  prevail  with  her  to  accept  of  a  piano- 
forte for  her  cottage-parlour.  In  vain  he  promised  that  it  should 
be  of  the  simplest  form  and  dimensions,  of  the  least  ornate  make, 
of  the  most  unpretentious  kind  ;  in  vain  he  pleaded  that  he  him- 
self longed  for  some  music,  and  urged  that  it  was  unfair  to  deny 
him,  even  if  she  denied  herself  refined  entertainment.  She  per- 
sisted in  affirming  that  it  was  unfit,  incongruous,  absurd,  outra- 
geous ;  and  that  if  he  persevered,  and  sent  it  in,  she  should  not 
receive  it — she  would  return  it. 

"  Why  insist  on  rejecting  so  trifling  a  contribution  to  your 
daily  pleasure,  Kate  1  An  instrument  to  one  who  can  sing  and 
play,  is  a  necessity — a  bare  necessary  of  life." 

"  Necessaries  of  life  that  usually  come  under  the  category  of 
elegant  indulgences,  and  include  rosewood  piano-fortes  among 
their  items,  are  not  for  such  housekeepers  as  Ruthy  and  I,"  she 
gaid.  "  We  are  better  housewives  and  domestic  economists  than 
to  suffer  such  articles  of  furniture  to  darken  our  doors." 

"  It  shall  not  be  rosewood  ;  it  shall  be  plainest  mahogany," 
nrged  Fermor. 

tl  Mahogany  would    shame   our  deal  tables  •  and  we  will  not 


THE    IRON   COUSIN.  425 

have  even  our  chairs  and  tables  put  out  of  countenance.  We'll 
all  maintain  our  simple,  honest,  unshameful  plainness  ;  won't  wn, 
lltithv  ?  " 

"We  must  all  be  plain,  before  we  can  lay  claim  to  any  pre- 
tensions, even  of  plainness,"  answered  Ruth  Field,  with  a  quietly 
arch  jrlancc  at  Kate's  handsome  countenance. 

"  You  agree  with  me,  Ruth,  that  there  need  be  no  scruple  in 
accepting  the  little  cottage-piano  ?  "  said  Fermor,  eagerly. 

"  I  think  there  need  bo  no  scruple  ;  but  as  it  is  a  matter  of 
taste  and  feeling,  rather  than  of  principle,  I  think  Miss  Irctou 
should  act  as  she  feels  inclined." 

"  Thank  you,  Ruthy.  It  would  have  been  too  traitorly  had 
you,  my  co-monitress  in  school,  iny  co-mistress  at  home,  sided 
with  my  opponent." 

"  Do  not  treat  me  as  an  opponent,  Kate,"  said  Fermor. 

"  Have  not  the  Iron  Cousin  and  I  always  been  opponents  ?  " 
«jhe  answered,  gaily.  "  But  in  sober  seriousness,  I  cannot  accept 
BO  costly  a  present  as  you  kindly  propose  to  make  me.  It  would 
be  unpleasant — unwelcome — and  you  would  not  wish  to  force 
either  an  unpleasant  or  an  unwelcome  gift  upon  me." 

"  Once  you  did  not  object  to  receive  just  such  a  gift  from 
me  ;  and  even  generously  allowed  that  its  cost  made  no  difference 
in  your  readiness  to  receive  it,  Kate,"  said  Fermor,  in  a  low 
voice. 

"  Times  arc  altered  since  then,"  she  replied,  in  the   sam« 

tone. 

"  Why  make  the  change  more  bitter,  by  refusing  a  toy  that 
would  serve  to  revive  some  of  the  pleasantcst  hours  of  those  old 
past  times  ?  "  he  said. 

"  It  is  no  toy — no  trifle — that  you  would  hare  me  accept,' 
she  returned.  "  Can  you  not  understand 'that  a  gift,  which  Mem- 
ed  to  me  then  but  a  part  of  my  indulged  prosperous  existence, 
and  as  such,  might  cost  a  few  shillings  or  many  guineas  with 
C(|ual  indifference  to  me,  iu  my  careless  spoiled-child  way  of  re- 
ceiving proffered  pleasures,  assun.  ct  *° 
nir  now,  when  pounds,  shilling,  and  jHMioe  are  matters  of  dmilj 
bread  consideration  ''.  " 


426  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  It  is  .his  very  compelled  change  which  most  pains  me,' 
said  Fermor.  "  I  cannot  bear  that  you  should  have  to  consider 
the  questions  of  money  and  money's  worth,  of  necessaries  and 
luxuries,  of  bread  and  cheese,  and  art-pleasures,  so  nearly,  so 
closely,  Kate." 

"  Why  not  1  "  she  replied.  "  It  does  me  good  ;  it  roots  out 
a  little  of  the  old  spoiled-child  leaven,  the  old  cry-baby  pap  of 
pampered  indulgence,  the  old  humoursome,  humoured  humours, 
that  clung  to  me  formerly.  The  Iron  Cousin  will  surely  applaud 
and  aid  the  process,  if  it  tend  to  purify  and  correct  his.  incorri- 
gible Cousin  Kate." 

"  Not  incorrigible — save  in  obduracy ;  in  that  she  is  inflex 
ible,  indomitable,  invincible." 

"  The  fitter  to  be  her  iron  kinsman's  kinswoman,  cousin  mine," 
returned  Kate. 

"  Then  suffer  him  to  claim  his  natural  share  of  iron  will,  and 
let  it  prevail  this  once  over  hers,"  said  Fermor.  "  Consent  to 
receive  this  gift  merely  in  memory  of  bygone  times." 

"  You  know  that  in  bygone  times  I  always  had  my  own  way 
in  the  matter  of  presents.  I  dictated  their  limit  of  price  ;  I 
appointed  their  range  of  purpose.  You  would  not  now  restrict 
my  limit,  my  range,  my  scope  of  despotism,  would  you  ?  That 
would  surely  be  an  ill  mode  of  recalling  those  former  times,  when 
unbounded  freedom,  and  liberty  to  do  as  I  pleased,  was  mine." 

"  Kate,  Kate  ;  well  might  he  we  both  loved  say,  '  You  always 
end  by  having  your  Own  way.'  " 

"  And  should  I  not,  when  it  is  a  right  one  ? "  she  re- 
plied. 

"  I  cannot  see  the  '  right '  you  make  out  in  this  matter.  Ruth 
says  it  is  no  point  of  scruple, — of  principle.  Kate,  oblige  me  by 
conceding  a  point  of  mere  sentiment.1 

She  hesitated. 

"  Kate,  will  you  not  gratify  me  by  yielding  on  this  one 
occasion,  where  no  compromise  of  right  and  wrong  is  at  issue, 
but  a  simple  case  of  mooted  will  between  us." 

"  You  shall  meet  me  half  way,  and  I  will  give  up  mine,"  said 
Kate 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  427 

"  Agreed,"  said  Ferraor,  joyfully. 

"  Well,  then,  you  shall  make  your  proposed  present  of  the 
piano  forte  to  our  school-room,  that  I  may  carry  out  a  wish  I 
have  some  time  had,  of  teaching  the  children  to  sing ;  and  in 
return,  I  promise  you  as  much  music  after  school-hours  as  your 
Cousin  Kate's  poor  ability  can  supply,  whenever  yon  choose  to 
come  and  claim  it,"  she  rejoined. 

"  Kate,  when  she  does  concede  a  favour,  knows  how  to  grant 
it  graciously,  generously,  freely,  fully,"  said  Fermor. 

"  Pity  she  does  not  confer  it  more  promptly,  and  more  fre- 
quently, you  would  say,  cousin  mine  ?  " 

"  I  would  say  nothing  that  should  seem  to  detract  from  the 
perfectuess  of  my  pleasure  in  receiving  it,"  said  Fermor.  M  A 
hint  of  reproach,  when  grace  is  accorded,  is  as  unjust  and  unwise, 
as  it  is  ungrateful.  And  now  tell  me  your  plan  for  the 
children." 

"  I  should  like  them  to  learn  to  take  part  in  the  service ;  I 
know  it  would  please  our  good  Dr.  Meadows,  who  has  an  honest 
pride  in  our  village  church  ;  I  should  wish  them  to  sing  psalms 
without  that  abominable  nasal  twang,  or  that  meaningless  blare, 
which  choir-children  usually  indulge  in,  to  the  infinite  torture  of 
their  hearers.  I  should  like  also,  to  teach  them  to  get  up  a  few 
simple  choruses,  as  a  reward  and  a  recreation,  among  themselves. 
And  I  feel  sure,  from  Ruthy's  expression  of  face,  that  she  has  a 
beautiful  singing  voice,  and  I  mean  to  secure  her  for  my  first  pu- 
pil, and  eventually  as  iny  assistant  instructress." 

It  was  a  genuine  delight  to  Fermor  Worthington  to  see  the 
animated  interest  Kate  took  in  her  vocal  scheme;  it  furnished 
her  with  a  fruitful  source  of  pleased  thought,  and  supplied  her  with 
a  means  of  relaxation,  and  relief  from  duller  pursuit* 

1 1  e  also  took  occasion  to  minister  to  her  minor  comforts  iu  vari- 
ous ways  ;  by  degrees  ordering  it  so  that  she  could  scarcely  avoid 
their  acceptance,  without  positive  refusal,  and  actual  ungracious 
sending'  thrm  back.  It  was  now  a  basket  of  hot-house  fruit,  or 
wine,  or  poultry,  or  game,  for  Matty's  consumption  ;  or 
ul  kind  of  jelly  or  cake,  that  the  housekeeper  at  \V.  r 


428  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

thington  knew  how  to  make  better  than  any  one  in  the  county 
and  which  he  wished  Ruth's  opinion  upon ;  or  else  some  plant 
just  in  bloom,  or  fresh  cut  flowers  from  the  conservatory,  for  Kate 
herself,  that  were  constantly  arriving  at  the  school-cottage.  And 
when  she  would  attempt  to  remonstrate,  Fermor  had  always  some 
playful,  incontrovertible  argument,  or  unanswerable  reason,  why 
it  was  needful  they  should  be  retained. 

Insensibly,  this  delicate  care  for  her  welfare,  this  affectionate, 
unobtrusive  solicitude  for  her  enjoyment  and  happiness,  wrought 
its  best  effect  upon  Kate  Ireton.  She  felt  grateful — ineffably 
grateful.  It  transfused  a  serene  joy  and  blissful  content  into  her 
being.  It  filled  her  with  a  sense  of  guardian  kindness  and  pro- 
tection, and  gentlest,  tenderest  watch,  at  hand,  to  shelter  and 
preserve.  It  supplied  precisely  the  element  in  her  existence  of 
which  it  had  been  so  suddenly  and  grievously  deprived  ;  and  she 
learned  to  dwell  in  spirit  upon  the  thought  of  Fermor  Worthing- 
ton's  friendship  and  brotherly  attachment,  with  something  of  the 
same  kind  of  placid  reliance,  and  glad,  all-sufficing  trust,  with 
which  she  had  formerly  regarded  her  uncle's  love  for  her.  The 
belief  in  the  Iron  Cousin's  absence  of  particular  preference  to 
wards  her,  gradually  mellowed  her  own  preference  into  a  tranquil 
ler  feeling  towards  him,  keeping  all  warmer  and  more  passionate 
emotion  deep  within  the  recesses  of  her  heart,  and  enabling  her  to 
meet  him  in  their  ordinary  intercourse,  with  the  old  cousinly  free- 
dom and  ease  of  familiarity. 

It  was  different  with  Fermor.  His  strength  of  principle,  his 
honourable  integrity,  his  scrupulous  respect  to  the  mutual  attach- 
ment he  believed  subsisting  between  Cecil  and  Kate,  his  natural 
self-command,  and  power  of  self-control,  with  reticence  of  char- 
acter, all  enabled  him  to  preserve  the  same  exterior  calm  and 
staid  equanimity  he  had  maintained  throughout ;  but  his  inward 
struggles  were  severe. 

The  beholding  her  day  by  day,  in  the  exercise  of  her  volun- 
tary system  of  self-dependence,  and  toil,  and  frugal  simplicity, 
raised  her  in  his  esteem,  and  heightened  his  enthusiasm  and  n> 
gard  for  her  moral  worth.  It  confirmed  all  he  had  hoped  and  be- 


THE    IRON    COUSIH.  420 

lieved  her  capable  of,  in  rectitude  and  strength  of  purpose.  Th« 
observing  her  gentler  speech,  and  milder  manner,  touched  him 
with  added  tenderness,  as  he  thought  how  adversity  had  taught, 
inspired,  and  softened.  While  the  constant  witnessing  her  ex- 
quisite beauty,  enhanced  and  sublimated  as  it  now  wan,  by  the 
light  of  soul  and  heart  culture,  as  formerly  by  that  of  intellectual 
improvement  supervening  upon  native  mental  and  personal  en- 
dowments, served  to  increase  his  affection  into  the  intensity  of 
exclusive,  passionate,  all-absorbing  love. 

His  was  in  fact  the  life  of  self-denial ;  of  strictest,  rigidest, 
most  difficult  self-denial.  Yet  he  had  a  secret  satisfaction  in  feel- 
ing this,  and  submitting  to  it,  for  the  sake  of  her  who  practised 
the  self-denial  imposed  by  circumstance.  He  took  a  stern  pride 
in  knowing  that,  while  he  seemed  to  be  leading  a  life  of  ease  and 
luxury,  he  was  enduring  an  inward  martyrdom  that  out-matched 
the  privations  he  saw  her  compelled  to  suffer.  If  she  had  her 
evils  to  support,  he  knew  that  he  in  truth  had  far  crueller  ones  to 
contend  with.  But  the  very  keenness  of  his  perception  that  such 
was  the  case,  gave  him  courage  to  bear  them  bravely ;  that  her 
peace,  her  comfort,  her  happiness  might  bo  secured. 

And  still  time  went  on ;  and  still  Kate  Ireton  worked  hard, 
and  Fermor  Worthington  strove  hard,  each  intent  upon  their  own 
moral  and  mental  chastening  for  the  sake  of  each  other.  Apart, 
yet  together;  severally,  yet  mutually;  singly,  yet  collectively 
and  conjoinedly ;  distinctly  and  individually,  yet  in  concert  and 
combination,  did  they  unconsciously  pursue  their  respective  course*. 
Unknowingly  to  themselves,  both  were  linked  in  one  common  aim ; 
they  were  united  in  a  loving  bond  of  hopeful,  elevating,  strenuous 
endeavour. 


CIIAl'TKK    XL VII. 

NKAHLY  a  twelvemonth  had  elated  sinco  Kate  Ireton's  low.  She 
had  1....-U  unwilling  to  leave  off  IHT  bhu-k  garb,  which  seemedbert 

i   fallen  upon  her  life;  but,  feeling 


430  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

that  at  some  period  or  other,  it  must  be  given  up,  she  had  fixed 
her  own  birthday  as  the  one  when  she  would  resume  colours. 

On  the  eve,  Fermor  Worthington  had  been  over  to  hear  tlm 
school-children  sing  a  beautiful  simple  choral  strain,  which  Kate 
Ireton  had  taken  great  pains  to  make  them  execute  with  taste  and 
precision. 

The  little  concert  went  off  to  the  entire  satisfaction  of  all  con- 
cerned. The  two  monitresses  looked  beaming  with  innocent  pride 
at  the  success  of  their  young  choristers ;  the  young  performers 
were  ruddy  with  mingled  bashfulness  and  triumph,  as  their  single 
auditor — a  host  in  himself — expressed  his  high-  admiration  of 
their  excellent  achievement,  and  dispensed  various  toys  and  picture- 
books  among  them,  as  prizes ;  while,  to  crown  all,  he  had  provided 
a  feast  of  cakes  and  fruit,  which  was  served  on  the  school-tables, 
after  the  conclusion  of  the  concert. 

He  presided,  with  immense  popularity ;  while  the  two  moni- 
tresses waited  upon  the  little  troop ;  for  once  laying  aside  their 
mistress-dignity  and  teacher-authority.  Nothing  could  exceed  the 
glee,  the  hilarity,  the  shrill  enjoyment  of  the  young  revellers. 
While  the  unrestrained  din  was  at  its  height — for  noise  forms  a 
large  portion  of  childish  delight,  and  the  liberty  to  indulge  it  un- 
checked is  no  slight  addition  to  their  festal  pleasure — Kate  called 
towards  her  a  little  dark-eyed,  quiet,  shy-glancing  child,  and  said, 
"Peggy,  you  once  told  me  you  should  like  to  hear  this  gentleman's 
voice  again.  Do  you  remember  it  ?  " 

"  Quite  well ;  I  have  been  remembering  it,  as  I  first  heard  it, 
all  the  time  I  have  been  listening  to  it  this  afternoon." 

"  And  so  you  have  taken  a  fancy  to  my  speaking-voice,  my 
little  maid  ? "  said  Fermor.  "  Do  you  know  I  have  taken  as 
strong  a  liking  to  your  singing-voice.  I  remarked  it,  among  the 
rest,  while  you  and  your  school-fellows  were  chanting  the  chorale. 
Will  you  let  me  hear  it  by  itself?" 

The  child  reddened,  and  looked  at  Kate. 

"  Shall  you  mind  singing  that  little  song  I  taught  yo-a,  Peggy, 
to  this  gentleman  ?  "  said  Kate.  "  He  will  not  press  you,  if  you 
do  not  wish  to  sing ;  and  I  know  you  are  not  fond  of  singing  fee 


THE    IRON    CO'  431 

fore  strangers.  But  he  would  like  to  hoar  jou ;  and  I  should  like 
you  to  show  him  that  you  are  willing  to  oblige  him." 

"  He's  not  a  stranger,  I  remember  him  so  well,"  said  the  child 
simply.  "  And  besides,  I  should  like  to  try  and  please  him,  be* 
cause " 

"  Because  what,  my  dear  ?  "  said  Fermor,  gently,  seeing  that 
she  hesitated,  stooping  down,  and  taking  her  hand. 

"  Because  you  please  me,"  she  said,  innocently,  fixing  her  large 
dark  pensive  eyes  upon  his  strikingly  fine  countenance. 

Fermor  Worthington's  cheek — manly  as  it  was — took  a  similar 
hue  with  Peggy's  blushing  one,  .at  this  direct  childish  compliment. 
"  You  are  a  kind-hearted,  grateful  little  girl,  to  desire  to  gratify 
those  who  give  you  pleasure,"  he  said  ;  "  and  I  dare  say  you  will 
also  like  to  please  your  good  mistress,  by  showing  how  well  she 
has  taught  you  to  sing.  Now  let  us  hear  the  sonp." 


Kate  had  intended  that  this  school  concert  should  hare  taken 
place  on  her  birthday ;  but  at  Fermor's  request,  she  had  fixed  it 
for  the  eve,  reserving  the  day  itself  for  a  quiet  evening  at  home- 
in  the  cottage-parlour.  He  had  stipulated  that  he  should  be  in- 
viti-il  to  tea,  and  that  he  should  be  allowed  to  come  early  in  the 
afternoon,  it  being  a  half-holiday,  and  that  they  should  make  it  a 
gay  party  and  gala  entertainment  in  honour  of  the  occasion. 

"  And  in  order  to  endure  it  with  proper  observance  and  effect, 
your  two  hostesses  will  treat  their  sole  guest  with  extra  attt-nti.ni 
and  honouring  ceremony.  Ruth  and  I  will  hare  everything  in 
;ip].lc-pie  order,  and  behave  with  even  mince-pie  respect,  that  w» 
may  receive  the  master  of  Worthington  Court  with  fitting  rever- 
ence," she  answered. 

"  The  Queen  of  the  day  will  bo  entitled  to  take  precedence  of 
all  others,"  he  said. 

"By  special  deuire,  and  for   that  occasion  only,"  fhe 
turued. 

«  And  Kate ''  Fennor  tried  to  preserve  the  sportive 


432  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

they  had  been  using,  but  insensibly  his  voice  trembled  into  deeper 
feeling.  "  Kate,  I  wish,  for  the  sake  of  giving  all  due  grace  to 
the  occasion,  you  would  put  your  hair  in  the  same  way  that  you 
used  to  arrange  it ;  not  in  that  quaker  guise,  that  straight  puritan 
closeness  and  formality." 

"  The  Iron  Cousin  notice  such  insignificant  things — care  for 
such  idle  vanities !  "  she  exclaimed,  laughing.  "  You  are  surely 
not  in  earnest ! " 

"  I  am  indeed ;  as  a  part  of  old  Heathcote  times,  I  shall  be 
glad  to  see  the  bright  long  curls  once  more." 

"  They  shall  make  their  appearance,"  she  said,  still  laughing, 
"  like  the  rest  of  the  birthday  regal  style  and  state,  for  that  nigh* 
only." 

"  For  that  afternoon  only,"  he  rejoined.  "  Remember,  I  am 
to  be  with  you  early." 


But  early  he  did  not  come.  Kate  had  despatched  the  morn- 
ing lessons  with  alacrity,  and  had  since  been  employed,  with  Ruth, 
in  setting  their  cottage  in  trimmest  and  neatest  order.  But  still 
Fermor  Worthington  came  not ;  and  Kate  began  to  have  a  sore 
sense  of  vexation  and  irritable  impatience  settle  about  her  heart, 
very  much  akin  to  some  of  her  old  perverse  provoked  moods  of 
mind.  However,  she  suppressed  the  rising  rankle,  by  chatting 
cheerily  with  Ruth  Field,  and  by  bustling  about  actively  in  their 
household  decoration. 

Presently,  an  importantly-aiding  item  arrived,  in  the  shape  of 
a  huge  basket  of  greenhouse  flowers,  and  rare  exotics,  brought  by 
a  servant  from  Worthington  Court. 

As  Kate  proceeded  to  arrange  them  about  the  room,  dispos- 
ing them  in  their  best  abundant  advantage,  she  found  herself 
thinking  how  far  more  welcome  a  single  blossom  brought  by  his 
own  hand  would  have  been.  But  she  checked  the  feeling,  as  in- 
jurious and  unkind ;  accusing  herself  of  petulance,  and  querulous 
waywardness,  thus  to  prejudge  and  accuse  him,  when  in  all  pro- 
bability he  was  detained  by  some  rational  and  sufficient  motive. 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  433 

She  had  scarcely  done  Fermor  Worthington  this  inward  ja» 
tice,  when  she  saw  him  approaching.  Ho  had  in  his  band  some 
epray.s  of  j« •s.vnuine,  which  she  knew  he  must  have  been  round  to 
the  old  Hall  expressly  to  gather  for  her,  as  there  happened  to  be 
no  plant  of  that  kind  anywhere  near,  save  at  Heathootc.  He  was 
aware  how  intimately  these  flowers  were  associated  in  her  mind 
with  her  uncle's  memory;  and  he  had  doubtless  brought  them  as 
the  dearest-prized  birth-day  token  she  could  have. 

Possessed  with  this  feeling,  she  sprang  forward  to  meet  htm; 
and  as  she  took  them  from  his  hand,  she  clasped  both  her  own 
round  it,  with  a  look  of  full-hearted  thanks  that  thrilled  Fermor 
from  head  to  foot. 

Never  had  ehe  looked  more  beautiful.  Although  her  dress 
ted  of  nothing  but  a  simple  cotton  print,  yet  being  of  a  pale 
lilac  self-colour,  it  had  as  fresh  and  delicate  an  effect,  as  though 
of  silk.  Her  magnificent  hair  fell  in  its  full  luxuriance  of  wary 
brightness,  lending  perfect  feminine  adornment  to  the  perfectly 
lovely  face. 

Fermor  Worthington  had  disciplined  himself  to  bear  the  pow- 
erful appeal  which  he  felt  would  be  made  to  his  sense  of  beauty, 
and  he  bore  it  sturdily,  manfully.  He  knew  what  he  voluntarily 
encountered,  when  he  had  asked  her  to  arrange  her  hair  as  in  for- 
mer happy  days ;  and  he  had  told  himself  that  he  would  calmly 
endure  the  effect  upon  his  courage,  for  the  sake  of  the  delight  of 
once  again  beholding  her  her  own  fair  bright  self. 

True  to  his  inward-pledged  word,  he  betrayed  no  jot  of  the  im- 
•  u  her  appearance  produced  upon  him ;  but  fell  into  easy, 
sprightly  talk,  suited  to  the  occasion  of  their  present  pleasant 
meeting. 

••  We  have  very  kind  neighbours  in  worthy  Mr.  Chalkby  mod 
liia  pretty  daughter  Lucy,"  Kate  was  saying;  "  they  are  truly  con- 
siderate, and  think  of  a  thousand  attentions  by  which  they  may 
conduce  to  our  pleasure.  Lucy  brings  Ruth  the  newspaper  every 
day,  knowing  that  Ruthy  dearly  loves  to  spell  over  the  column*, 
and  see  what's  going  on  in  the  world,  though  we  lire  sneh  hermit 
lives  ourselves;  and  Mr.  Chalkby  sends  me  over  all  bis  new  print 
19 


484  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

publications,  whenever  be  thinks  there  are  any  among  them  likely 
to  interest  and  please  me.  It  is  really  most  kind.  He  senda 
very  valuable  engravings  to  us  sometimes.  To-day,  for  instance, 
he  sent  in  a  book  of  charming  views  in  the  East,  that  we  will  look 
through  together,  if  you  will,  after  tea,  while  Ruth  enjoys  her 
paper.  » 

As  side  by  side  they  turned  over  the  prints,  a  strong  self-com- 
mand alone  enabled  Fermor  to  preserve  his  usual  collected  tone 
and  staid  demeanour.  Her  proximity  unnerved  him  ;  and  by  a 
cold,  steady  guard  upon  himself,  he  could  but  just  contrive  to  an- 
swer quietly  and  firmly,  whenever  she  addressed  him. 

There  was  something  in  this  constraint,  that  at  length  struck 
Kate  almost  like  avoidance.  It  acted  as  a  shock  ;  and  she  pre- 
sently moved  away.  Then  she  reproved  herself  for  a  foolish  sus- 
ceptibility ;  and  feared  lest  she  might  be  giving  way  to  some  of 
her  old  captiousness,  and  fanciful  resentment,  and  ungracious  con- 
duct. 

Therefore,  when  Fermor  Worthington,  taxing  himself  with 
weakness,  and  want  of  steadfastness  and  self-possession,  won  her 
to  return,  she  came  back,  and  stood  near  to  him,  looking  over  his 
shoulder,  as  he  went  on  examining  the  engravings. 

Never  had  the  Iron  Cousin  stronger  claim  to  the  title.  Kate 
Ireton  remained  there,  one  hand  resting  on  the  table  near  him, 
the  loose  sleeve  thrown  partly  back,  discovering  the  white  arm, 
encircled  by  the  bracelet  of  grey  hair,  with  the  iron  clasp,  not 
many  inches  from  his  lips.  Her  face  was  invisible  to  him,  being 
screened  by  the  long  drooping  hair,  which  all  but  touched  his ; 
while  the  rich,  voluptuous  scent  of  the  jessamine  in  her  bosom, 
added  yet  another  spell  to  the  dangerously-potent  impression  as- 
Bailing  him  ever  more  insidiously  and  forcibly. 

Fermor  could  have  wished  the  charm  of  that  time  to  last  for 
ever  ;  yet  with  each  moment  he  felt  a  wild  impulse  growing  upon 
liim.  to  end  it  by  madly  touching  the  fair  arm.  He  mastered 
himself  by  so  strong  an  effort  of  resolute  withdrawal,  that  it  seem- 
ed like  repulse  ;  and  this  time,  Kate  thought  she  could  not  b« 
mistaken, — he  did  not  like  to  have  her  so  near  him. 


TIII:  IRON  COUSIN.  435 

As  she  drew  back,  Ruth  exclaimed : — "  News  from  India!  Son* 
•udden  promotions  and  changes.  You  have  friends  there,  I  think 
and  will  be  interested  to  see  this  account,"  added  she  to  Kate. 

Fermor  ventured  but  one  glance  at  the  glowing  face,  as  she 
moved  towards  the  reader.  He  discerned  in  it  a  hope,  a  joy,  that 
seemed  to  blacken  all  his  own. 

Presently,  Ruth,  chancing  to  raise  her  eyes  from  the  paper, 
said  : — "  You  are  not  well,  Mr.  Worthington.  You  are  looking 
very  white.  This  room  is  close  and  small,  after  your  large  apait- 
ments.  The  tea  making  has  added  to  the  heat  I  will  take 
away — " 

As  she  rose  to  take  away  the  tea  things,  Fermor  said,  laugh- 
in;:  faintly  : — "  The  evening  is  sultry ;  but  I  should  by  rights  havo 
more  of  an  iron  constitution  than  to  change  colour  at  a  little 
heat." 

He  walked  to  the  open  window  as  he  spoke. 

Kate  followed  him,  and  laying  her  hand  on  his  arm,  said  in  a 
soft,  womanly  tone  : — "Are  you  ill?  Are  you  indeed  ill, — Fer- 
mor? "  The  last  word  trembled  forth,  as  if  involuntarily.  It 
was  the  first  time  she  had  ever  called  him  by  his  Christian 
name. 

;<  For  God's  sake,  do  not ! — you  must  not  call  me  so — I  can- 
not bear  it — I  cannot  have  it " 

He  spoke  hurriedly,  huskily,  and  it  soemed  to  Kato  with  ex- 
treun!  annoyance.  Something  of  her  old  spirit  arose  within  h«-r, 
at  his  evident  dislike  that  she  should  address  him  thus.  It  was 
on  her  lip  to  make  haughty  allusion  to  their  altered  situation,  to 
hi.s  wealth  and  her  poverty,  to  his  rank  and  her  lowly  position. 
But  she  repressed  the  unworthy  impulse;  and  after  a  moment'* 
stmgirlo  with  herself,  rejoined,  in  a  frank,  clear  tone  :—  >  ar* 
ri!/ht.  It  is  not  fit.  But  you  must  forgive  me  the  freedom.  I 

[linking  of  your  health;  and  forgot  for  a  moment 

-topped  ;  then  went  on,  with  a  smiling  earnestness :— 1  must  not 

t-ic  Iron  Cousin  pn-.Mimo  too   imu-h  upon  his  *tren;_'tli.      In- 

ue  l.M.k.n-  ],:ile,— not  well;  you  must  M  mo  preach  • 

-ed  fc 


136  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

bear  some  preaching  from  you. — not  very  well,  T  own  ;  I  was  any- 
thing but  a  docile  disciple, — still  I  endured  it;  and  now.  it  in 
your  turn  to  hear  my  sermon." 

"  "What  is  your  text  ?  "  he  contrived  to  utter. 

"  Your  health  ;  and  my  homily — that  you  should  not  neglect 
it.  Promise  me  that  you  will  profit  by  my  doctrine." 

"  I  promise  at  least  to  remember  it,"  he  said. 

"  Spoken  like  the  Iron  Cousin  !  "  she  said.  "  He  listens  to 
counsel,  with  the  virtuous  determination  to  observe  it,  and  lay  it 
to  heart ;  whilst  I  used  wickedly  to  resist  and  scorn  good  advice. 
But  he  was  ever  wise  and  good,  in  contrast  with  my  thoughtless, 
heedless,  disregardful  self." 

Fermor  imagined  she  said  this  in  the  old  bitter,  scoffing 
mood.  But  she  spoke  in  all  the  sincere  and  deep  humility  of 
better  self-knowledge  ;  and  in  her  heart  she  was  thinking  of  the 
benefit  she  had  in  fact  reaped  from  the  effect  of  that  very  preach- 
ing she  had  appeared  to  deride  and  resent. 

"  You  do  well  to  say  '  used,'  Kate,"  he  answered  gently. 
"  However  you  may  once  have  chosen  to  show  a  gay  contempt  of 
what  seemed  to  you  dull  and  prosy  moralizing,  you  are  no  con- 
temner  of  wholesome  influences  now.  Witness  your  partiality 
for  the  simple,  right-minded,  excellent  Ruth  Field." 

"  You  think,  then,  that  I  am  less  wayward,  le&s  perverse, — 
that  my  character  has, — that,  in  short,  I  have  not  suffered  in 
vain,  and  that  I  am  less  removed  from  what  the  Iron  Cousin 
thinks  a  woman  should  be  ?  " 

Kate  (with  her  whole  soul  full  of  her  uncle,  and  of  what  she 
might  now  have  been  to  him — more  worthy)  said  this  with  so 
child-like  an  earnestness,  with  such  singleness  of  thought,  with 
so  much  touching  car.dour  and  innocence,  merely  hoping  for 
Fermor's  better  opinion, — he,  who  was  to  her  the  standard  and 
judge  of  all  excellence, — that  she  looked  rather  the  young  girl 
awaiting  her  preceptor's  sentence,  than  the  grown  woman  address- 
ing her  equal.  Could  this  be  Kate  Ireton  ?  The  fiery,  haughty 
tempered,  uncontrollable,  wilful  Kate  Ireton  ?  This  appealing, 
up-looking,  gentle  creature, — with  her  soul  sitting  in  her  eyes 
full  of  timid  hope,  and  soft  reliance  ? 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  43? 

"  I  think, — I  think  you "  The  Iron  Cousin  bad  turned 

towards  her,  and  seizing  both  her  hands,  as  she  stood  looking  up 
into  his  face,  which  had  looked  into  hers  while  she  spoke,  forget* 
ting  all  that  the  universe  contained,  save  that  single  countenance 
upon  which  he  gazed ;  and  as  she  concluded,  was  stammering 

forth  : — "  I  think  you — I  think  you "  when  in  came  lluth 

Field,  and  took  op  the  newspaper  again,  proceeding  quietly  with 
the  remainder  of  the  Indian  news. 

Just  then  there  was  a  low,  distant  mutter  of  thunder ;  and  in 
the  air  there  was  that  stirless  hush,  which  is  like  the  awe  with 
which  earth  awaits  a  dreadful  visitation.  A  storm  seemed 
threatening  ;  but  as  yet  the  sky  was  clear,  and  the  evening  fair. 
Fcrmor  Worthington  took  his  hat,  as  if  to  go. 

"  This  is  Thursday,  I  know ;  but  must  you  indeed  ride  so  far 
as  Ditchley  Manor  this  evening?  It  threatens  to  bo  bad 
weather  ;  I  fear  you  will  scarcely  reach  there,  before  the  storm 
will  overtake  you.  Is  it  really  needful  that  you  should  go  ?  " 
said  Kate  Ireton. 

"  I  unfortunately  promised  ;  and " 

'  And  the  Iron  Cousin  will  abide  by  a  promise,  I  know,"  she 
said.  "  The  time  is  gone  by  when  I  wished  to  actuate  him  to 
wrongdoing;  I  will  not,  therefore,  seek  to  make  him  break  a 
promise." 

She  left  him  free  to  go ;  yet  Fermor  seemed  irresolute, — un- 
able to  stir.  He  lingered ;  still  remaining  near  the  little  case- 
ment window,  where  they  had  stood  together. 

"  Be  sure  you  let  Fawnfoot  take  hia  best  speed ;  remember 
the  iron  nature  is  ill  fitted  to  encounter  lightning,  should  it  come 
on.  I  shall  hope  that  the  good  horse  will  bear  you  to  shelter 
quickly  ;  and  that  you'll  be  safely  housed  before  tue  storm  breaks. 
Give-  me  your  word  to  ride  at  a  swift  pace.  Since  you  must  go, 
do  not  loiter." 

She  seemed  eager  to  have  him  gone;  and  Fcrmor,  with  a  bare 
word  or  two,  took  leave. 

Kate  wati-hi-d  him  unfasten  his  horse  from  the  paling,  in  UK 
adjoining  stony  playground,  where  Fawnfoot  uauaHy  abided  dur 


438  THE    IRON    COUSIW. 

ing  his  master's  visits  to  the  school-cottage ;  she  watched  him 
mount,  and  ride  away,  waving  him  a  smiling  good-bye,  in  reply 
to  the  look  he  cast  towards  the  window,  to  see  if  she  were  yet 
there. 

And  there  she  stood,  long  after  he  was  gone,  still  watching, — 
watching  the  storm  gradually  come  on.  She  saw  the  grey  black- 
ness gathering  over  the  sky ;  she  saw  the  heavy  piles  of  cloud 
change  from  purple  to  copper-coloured,  from  copper-coloured  to 
swart  dense  masses,  with  sharp  glittering  edges,  dazzling  and 
cutting  against  the  murk  back-ground  ;  she  saw  the  evening  close 
in,  with  a  darkness  more  sombre  than  that  of  nightfall,  while  still 
there  was  that  unpeaceful  silence — that  menacing  quiet — that 
unreposeful  lull — throughout  the  air,  as  if  Nature  were  ex- 
pecting some  fearful  summons,  to  be  uttered  in  uproar  and 
tempest. 

Amid  the  deep  suspenseful  pause,  there  was  one  image  which 
fastened  itself  upon  Kate  Ireton's  idea,  with  a  distinctness  and 
pertinacity  that  took  place  of  all  else.  It  was  that  look  of 
Fermor's,  while  he  held  her  hands  within  his  own,  and  gazed  into 
her  face.  It  had  none  of  the  avoidance  which  she  generally  read 
in  his  eye,  and  which  constantly  inspired  her  with  a  sense  of  dis- 
approval in  its  expression.  There  was  scrutiny,  eagerness — she 
knew  not  what.  There  was  something  in  that  fixed  look  with 
which  he  had  regarded  her,  strange,  inexplicable — wholly  un- 
like anything  that  she  had  ever  seen  in  the  Iron  Cousin  be- 
fore. He  was  generally  calm,  grave,  self-concentrated,  dis- 
passionately ready  for  judgment  and  decision  ;  at  that  moment, 
he  had  seemed  all  unguarded,  agitated,  quite  another  than 
himself. 

That  look  of  his  stood  clear,  vivid,  intense,  before  her  brain's 
sight ;  when  suddenly  a  sharp  flash  of  lightning  struck  it  out,  and 
filled  her  mind  with  the  sole  thought  of  Fermor's  possible 
danger.  She  knew  his  road  lay  among  trees ;  that  the  hed ire- 
rows  of  the  lanes  through  which  he  had  to  pass  were  thickly 
planted  with  young  oaks;  and  that,  for  the  most  part,  copse 
woods  and  plantations  skirted  his  path  on  either  side. 


THE  IROX  COUSIN.  439 

The  quiet  motion  of  Ruth  Field,  near  to  her,  awoke  Kate 
from  her  trance  of  reverie.  Ruth  had  advanced  to  shut  the 
window;  and  with  some  remark  upon  the  strengthening  storm, 
and  an  expression  of  trust  that  Mr.  Worthington  had  r. 
shelter  ere  this,  she  fastened  the  casement,  closed  the  shutter*, 
and  made  secure  the  cottage  door,  Kate  Ireton  and  she  bidding 
each  other  good  night  and  good  rest. 


CHAPTER  XLVIII 

Tin:  window  of  Kate  Ireton's  little  hcd-room  looked  forth  upon 
the  village  street ;  and  here  she  stationed  herself,  unable  to 
sleep  or  to  rest,  and  wholly  possessed  with  a  desire,  or  rather 
with  inability  to  do  otherwise,  than  still  to  wateh  the  storm. 

The  lightning-flashes  increased  in  strength  and  frequency, 
while  the  rain  poured  down  in  torrents,  the  wind  hurled  wildly 
in  short  vehement  gusts,  and  the  thunder  rolled  incessant  peali 
of  stern,  sovereign  decree. 

Kach  time  the  brilliant  coruscation  for  a  moment  illuminated 
the  spot,  Kate  could  see  that  the  village  street  was  wholly  de- 
serted ;  Louses  were  fast  closed,  and  the  inhabitants  seemed  all 
refuged  within  from  the  raging  of  the  tempest.  There  was  an 
occasional  light  from  a  window  to  be  seen,  as  if  the  inmates  were 
retiring  to  rest ;  but  after  a  time  these  were  withdrawn,  and  when 
the  lightning  was  not  present,  all  was  in  total  darkness. 

Some  stir,  some  sound  would  have  been  welcome ;  it  would 
have  seemed  like  assurance,  it  would  have  conveyed  the  ii 

f  activity,  of  living  in  energy,  of  assistance  in  ease  of  need ; 
it  would  have  imparted  a  sense  of  human  sympathy,  of  human 
ige  and  endeavour  at  hand,  should  peril  occur.  In  tlii* 
•ii.  a  1  interval,  while  each  succeeding  instant  seemed  fraught  with 
iiicnacc  and  vague  terror,  it  would  have  been  a  kind  of  encourage* 
.ucnt  i€  see  or  hear  tokens  of  animate  resource.  But  ftill, 


440  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

the  sheeted  rain,  the  saturated  stones  of  the  village  street,  the 
etreainitig  walls  of  its  cottage-houses,  the  glistening  rapid  current 
of  the  swollen  gutter-channels,  the  vacant  path  and  road-way 
leading  out  into  the  open  country,  were  all  that  met  her  eye,  when 
the  lightning  revealed  what  lay  there  ;  while  the  driving  rush  of 
the  electrical  wind,  and  the  mighty  ponderous  issue  of  the 
thunder-mandate,  were  the  only  sounds  that  broke  the  dark 
silence. 

Kate  knew  what  it  was,  that  night,  to  exist  wholly  in  another's 
being.  She  seemed  to  liye,  to  draw  breath,  but  through  Fermor's 
life  and  breathing.  Her  spirit  so  intimately  and  presently  dwelt 
with  his,  that  it  had,  as  it  were,  quitted  her  own  frame,  and 
flown  to  inhabit  his.  She  felt  the  awe  and  influence  of  the  storm, 
but  as  it  affected  him.  She  was  impressed  by  the  dread,  tho 
sublime  terror  of  the  night-tempest,  but  as  it  might  harm  him. 
She  shrank  from  the  scathing  flash,  and  trembled  with  the  vast 
tremble  of  the  thunder-roll,  but  in  the  thought  of  the  bane  with 
which  they  might  be  charged  for  him.  Her  body  was  standing 
within  the  retreat  of  her  own  cottage-roof,  but  its  spiritual  self 
was  wandering  abroad  in  the  drenching  rain,  the  beating  wind, 
the  alternate  blinding  glare  and  blinding  obscurity  of  the  storm- 
blast  ;  subject  to  imminent  peril  amid  near  trees,  or  soaked  to  the 
skin,  and  exposed  to  the  risk  of  wider  peril  in  the  open  plains; 
or  perchance  housed  securely  at  Ditchley  Manor ;  or  wherever 
by  possibility  Fermor  might  at  that  moment  of  time  chance  to  be. 
In  his  identity  hers  was  merged. 

It  was  then — in  that  night  of  storm  and  stormy  suspense,  of 
tempest  and  tempestuous  solicitude — that  Kate  Ireton  acknow- 
ledged to  her  own  soul  that  she  loved.  In  the  honesty  and  sin- 
cerity with  which  truth  the  most  wilfully  self-negatived,  at  such 
supreme  hours  make  themselves  recognized  and  admitted,  the 
fact  that  it  was  love  she  felt  towards  Fermor  Worlhington,  stood 
clearly  and  irrefragably  confessed  to  her  own  heart.  She  learn- 
ed— she  knew  that  only  one  feeling  could  so  have  blended  her 
indiyiduality  with  his,  as  this  night's  anxiety  had  shown  her  thai 
aers  was  with  Fermor  Worthington's  For  but  one  being  in  the 


THK    ICON    COU8UJ.  .{  U 

universe  could  she  have  experienced  this  intimate  union  of  spirit 
and  identity  of  existence — the  being  she  loved  as  herself— bettet 
than  herself — beyond  all  living  creatures. 

And  then  recurred  that  look — his  look — the  look  with  which 
he  had  regarded  her,  as  she  stood  before  him  meeting  hi> 
with  hers.  There  was  something  pulsing  at  her  heart,  that 
prompted  a  belief  it  could  be  no  other  than  the  expression  of  nn 
emotion,  which,  if  it  existed,  would  indeed  warrant  her  own. 
But  to  this  came  the  chill  confutation — why,  were  it  so,  need  he 
refrain  from  avowing  it  ?  What  cause  was  there  for  concealing 
his  preference,  if  preference  he  felt?  Wherefore  should  he 
to,  when  nothing  prevented  him  from  declaring  his  thought  ? 
If  it  were  love  that  sat  in  his  heart  and  spoke  from  his  eyes  in  that 
look,  if  it  were  passion  that  faltered  in  his  tongue,  and  trembled 
in  liis  accents,  as  he  held  her  hands  enclosed  in  his,  and  £< 
as  if  he  gazed  what  be  could  not  epeak,  how  should  there  be  any 
i  for  his  withholding  the  secret  feeling?  No,  it  must  be, 
that  the  feeling  did  not,  in  fact,  exist;  that  she  had  mistaken  a 
i>;is-ing  expression  for  an  indication  which  was  contradict.  •!  \>\ 
all  his  ordinary  demeanour ;  that  she  had  idly  imagined  token* 
of  a  sentiment,  which  the  whole  course  of  his  behaviour  had  de- 
monstrated to  be  nothing  warmer  than  an  affectionate  friendship, 
strengthened  by  relationship  and  old  intimacy,  and  companion- 
ship into  the  regard  of  a  brother. 

"  And  what  sister  would  not  be  proudly  content  to  own  such 
a  brother  ? "  she  thought  "  As  a  brother,  I  will  revere  and 
worship  him.  As  a  brother,  I  will  take  pride  in  his  superiority 
to  myself.  As  a  brother,  I  will  strive  to  make  myself  won 
his  society,  of  his  friendship,  of  his  kindliness.  As  a  brother,  I 
will  feel  grateful  that  he  tenders  me ;  and  rejoice  in  our  firm 
mutual  regard;  and  lock  within  my  own  heart  the  secret  spring 
of  affection  which  adds  forco  to  mine  towards  him,  bidding  BM 
gladly  give  him  love  in  return  for  his  liking." 

The  storm  without  had  abated ;  and  with  these  tranquil  l«r 
thoughts  within  hei  heart,  while  hopefuller  belief  in  Farmer's 
safety  had  accompanied  the  clearing  of  the  night,  Kate  Ir«to€ 


442  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

was  at  length  about  to  retire  to  rest,  when  a  sound  struck  upon 
her  ear,  that  roused  afresh  all  her  throbbing  anxiety.  It  came 
nearer  and  nearer ;  and  as  her  eye  remained  riveted  upon  the 
outer  darkness,  a  sudden  flash  disclosed  to  view  a  horse  tearing 
by  at  full  gallop — riderless. 


The  sight  flung  Kate  Ireton  on  her  knees  upon  the  floor. 
Prayer — soul  outpouring  prayer — prayer  such  as  is  sobbed  aloud 
by  the  anguished  spirit  in  such  extremities,  alone  kept  her  from 
insanely  rushing  forth  into  the  night,  with  fruitless  essay  to 
search — to  help — to  do  somewhat  that  might  seem  like  trying  to 
carry  succour,  and  assuage  her  own  terrors  by  certainty  at  least. 
Prayer  alone  could  have  steadied  her  mind  so  far  as  to  let  her 
see  how  vain  would  be  any  such  a.ttempt,  and  have  steadied  her 
frame  sufficiently  to  prevent  its  straying  involuntarily  and  help- 
lessly away.  As  it  was,  she  remained  kneeling,  buried  in  humble, 
earnest,  heartfelt  supplication  ;  and  thus,  heavily,  imploringly, 
xvore  away  the  night. 


The  pallid  face  and  haggard  sleepless  aspect  of  Kate  Ireton, 
next  morning,  could  not  fail  of  attracting  the  attention  of  lluth 
Field  and  old  Matty. 

They  would  fain  have  had  her  lie  down  again,  and  give  up 
school  attendance  for  that  one  day;  but  Kate  would  not  hear  of 
it,  knowing  that  activity  and  employment  were  the  only  resources 
for  inquietude  such  as  hers. 

"  Do  be  persuaded,  dear  monitress ;  "  said  Ruth  Field.  "  Last 
night's  storm  has  made  you  really  unwell,  besides  keeping  you 
awake.  Although  you' will  not  own  it,  I  am  sure  you  are  indis- 
posed. Stormy  weather  has  a  strong  effect  upon  some  persons, 
giving  them  a  violent  headache  ;  and  I  am  convinced  you  have  one 
this  morning." 

"  Yes,  I  have  a  bad  headache,  but  I  think  it  will  not  be  the 
worse  for  going  through  my  school-work.  Let  me  try,  at  least.' 


,  THE    IRON    COUSIN.  443 

"  You  won't  be  able  to  prevail  with  her,  when  once  she^  set 
npou  a  thing ;  »  observed  Matty.  "  She  waa  always  a  wilsome 
shild  and  now  she's  a  wilful  woman;  and  'a  wilfu' woman,'  as  the 
X <>r tli  people  say,  '  maun  hae  her  ain  way.'  Ay,  you  was  alwayn 
a  \vil.souie  child,  true  enough;  but  as  winsome  as  wilsomc,  bless 
your  heart !  All  the  more  pretty  for  having  a  will  of  your  own, 
— it  was  so  prettily  shown,  and  somehow  it  came  so  natural  to 
you  to  have  your  own  way ;  it  was  just  yourself,  Miss  Kate.  m\ 
darling!" 

"  And  now  I  am  going  to  ask  you  to  give  me  my  way — and 
then  it  will  be  your  gift,  and  not  my  own  will,  Matt  vkin,"  said 
Kate ;  "  you  and  Ruthy  prevent  my  insisting  upon  doing  as  I 
like,  by  letting  me  do  as  I  like  as  soon  as  I  express  a  wish.  And 
I  really  wish  to  attend  school  to-day." 

Kate's  desire  to  fulfil  her  duties,  as  the  best  means  of  afford 
inj:  wholesome  and  effectual  counterpoise  to  her  secret  anxiety 
found  its  reward,  in  gaining  her  intelligence  upon  the  point  that 
absorbed  all  her  thought. 

The  children,  before  lessons  began,  were  interchanging  village 
news,  and  the  events  of  last  night's  storm  were  under  discussion. 
Kate  heard  one  of  them  tell  another,  that  in  the  hamlet  where  she 
lived,  a  gentleman  had  been  thrown  from  his  horse,  and  badly  hurt 
That  he  was  found  in  the  road,  lying  stunned ;  that  he  was  taken 
into  the  nearest  cottage.  That  he  was  not  recognised  at  first ;  but 
that  afterwards  he  was  known  to  be  'Squirr  Worthington  of 
\Vortliington  Court.  That  a  doctor  had  been  sent  for,  who  said 
that  he  was  on  no  account  to  be  removed  at  present,  as  brain-fcrer 
might  come  on.  That  the  old  woman  who  owned  the  cottage  had 
undertaken  to  nurse  him ;  and  that  he  was  to  remain  under  her 
tai' .  until  he  should  be  pronounced  fit  to  be  carried  home. 

i -n  these  tidings  were  something  to  Kate  Ireton.     HIT  im- 
agination had  pictured  so  many  fatal  possibilities,  that  to  msec*- 
tain  what .had  actually  happened,  seemed  at  first  nl 
But  soon  th<«  n-ality  tnrtiin-.l  her  with  its  painful  fact*,  wit!. 
to  h-am  more  particulars,  with  thirst  to  know,  above  all,  I  :»w  ht 
now  farfd. 


444  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

As  the  day  waned,  and  evening  set  in,  the  thought  of  auothei 
long  long  night  of  suspense  seemed  almost  more  than  Kate  could 
bear.  The  idea  of  any  amount  of  difficulty  or  fatigue,  was  wel- 
come, in  preference  to  that  weary  passive  waiting — doing  nothing 
fearing  everything. 

She  made  up  her  mind ;  at  all  risks,  she  would  obtain  soim- 
thing  of  certainty. 

The  last  thing  at  night,  before  she  went  into  her  own  room, 
she  repaired  to  Matty's,  and  sat  with  her,  talking  and  chatting, 
until  the  old  nurse  fell  into  a  sound  sleep.  Then  Kate  Ireton 
softly  opened  a  drawer,  and  took  thence  the  red  cloak  and  black 
silk  hat  which  belonged  to  Matty,  but  which,  since  the  rheuma- 
tism, had  been  laid  by  in  lavender.  These  Kate  carried  away 
with  her  to  her  own  room  ;  and  when  there,  equipped  herself  in 
them,  tying  the  black  silk  hat  closely  down  over  a  thick  muslin 
cap  beneath  which  her  hair  was  carefully  put  back  and  hidden, 
and  muffling  herself  in  the  folds  of  the  cloak. 

Thus  habited,  she  thought  she  should  have  the  best  chance 
of  making  her  way  unnoticed,  as  some  ordinary  rural  body,  some 
industrious  village  market-woman,  whose  business  took  hei 
abroad  late,  to  be  ready  for  early  market  next  day. 

She  stole  down  stairs,  and  let  herself  noiselessly  out.  The 
night  was  as  calm  and  beautiful  as  the  previous  one  had  been 
tempestuous.  The  stars  shone  brightly  and  peacefully,  and 
lighted  her  way  over  field  and  meadow,  through  woodland  aud 
coppice,  by  lane  and  hedgerow,  with  mild  benignant  ray.  The 
air  smelt  fresh  and  pure,  as  it  came  freely  and  gratefully  upon 
her  burning  cheek ;  there  was  a  sense  of  liberty — liberty  of 
breathing — liberty  of  purpose — liberty  of  action — in  this  volun- 
tary setting  forth  to  gain  for  herself  the  tidings  she  craved, 
through  the  solitary  night  scene.  She  looked  up  into  the  starlit 
sky,  thankful  for  this  at  least — that  she  was  able  to  come  forth 
unwatched,  unnoted,  and  to  proceed  unobserved.  She  met  no 
one  ;  at  that  still  hour,  in  that  quiet  neighbourhood,  nr  soul  save 
herself  was  stirring. 

After  a  full  hour's  walking,  she  reached  the  hamlet.     It  con- 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  440 

listed  of  a  few  straggling  cottages,  on  the  borders  of  it  patch  of 
common,  where  the  golden  furze  lay  thick,  intersected  by  irregu- 
lar sheep-paths,  and  slender  winding  tracks.  Kate  knew  the 
hamlet  well,  having  passed  it  in  many  of  her  former  rides,  often 
(-••marking  its  picturesque  beauty,  and  secluded  situation. 
.  She  had  taken  care  to  ascertain  the  precise  cottage  to  which 
Kt'rmor  Worthington  had  been  carried ;  and  now  went  straight 
i  Awards  it,  knocking  with  her  closed  hand  against  the  rode  door,  dis- 
tinctly, but  with  a  certain  restraint,  lest  she  should  disturb  him  who 
lay  within.  Presently  an  old  woman's  head  appeared  at  the  lattice 

-  Who  be  there  ?     What  dost  want  ?  " 
"  Dame  Grayfield  ?  " 

Ay,  I  be  she ;  what  d'ee  want  ?  " 

"  Come  here,  please ;  I  want  to  speak  with  you,  dame." 
"  Well,  what  is  it  ?  "  said  Dame  Grayfield,  appearing  at  the 
door.     "  This   be   a   strange   time   o'   night,  it  be,  to  disturb 
Christ'n  folks,  and  I  that  ha'  got  a  gentry  to  nuss,  too  ! " 

':  I  will  not  keep  you  two  minutes ;  I  would  not  have  come 

at  this  late  hour,  but  that  I  have  none  other  when  I  can  get 

away,"  said  Kate.     "  That  sick  gentleman  you  have  to  nurse — 

f  him  I  would  ask ;  he  has  been  a  good  friend  to  me,  and  I 

want  to  know  how  he  is." 

-  He's  bad  as  bad  can  be  ;  that's  what  he  is,"  answered  Dame 
( ; ra\  tield.     "  Doctor  says  he  must  be  kept  main  quiet ;  and  main 
quiet  I  keep  him." 

Might  I  see  him?  Do  you  think  you  could  let  me  Bet 
him  r  If  I  were  to  creep  in  softly,  and  not  breathe  to  disturb 
him — would  you  let  me  look  upon  him  ?  "  said  Kate. 

Well,  I  don't  know;  doctor  says  he's  to  be  kept  main  quiet, 
and  to  -see  no  one,"  said  the  dame. 

He  will  not  see  me-rl  will  keep  out  of  sight;  but  let  ma 
:im."  urged  Kate. 
"  What  makes  you  so  set  on't  ?  "  was  the  reply. 

He  has  been  very  kind  to  me — been  my  beat  friend— help- 
td  mo  in  my  distress — served  me  beyond  common  help,"  falter*! 
Kate,  as  she  thought  how  trul\  .-lie  .spoke. 


1 46  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  Ay,  I  hear  he's  done  a  world  o'  good,  one  way  or  t'other,' 
said  the  dame.  "  All  the  poor  have  a  good  word  for  'Squir« 
Worthington.  He's  sparing  to  his  tenants,  thoughtful  to  them 
as  needs  help ;  and  does  many  a  kindness  unknownst,  they  tell 
me.  When  a  man's  down,  one  hears  the  good  of  him,  if  there  ia 
any  to  be  spoken  and  surely  all  the  bad,  if  there's  bad  can  be 
said  about  him.  Mayhaps  he's  behaved  kind  by  you,  my  woman, 
and  nobody's  none  the  wiser,  eh  ?  Mayhap  he's  helped  you  with 
a  guinea  or  two,  at  odd  times,  when  times  were  hard  !  " 

"  With  more  than  guineas,"  'said  Kate. 

"  Well  to  be  sure  !  Pound-notes,  perhaps  ?  But  come 
you're  a  grateful  body,  and  won't  do  him  no  hurt,  by  looking  at 
him,  and  satisfying  your  own  eyes  how  he's  gettin'  on ;  so  como 
with  me.  Tread  soft,  and  speak  low." 

She  led  the  way  into  the  little  sleeping-chamber.  Upon  the 
low  pallet-bed  lay  Fermor  Worthington.  His  eyes  were  closed ; 
his  face  colourless  :  his  arm  bandaged, — the  surgeon  having  bled 
him  profusely — his  breathing  nearly  extinct,  and  his  whole  ap- 
pearance bearing  as  near  a  resemblance  to  death  as  to  life. 

Kate  leaned  against  the  door-way,  with  her  eyes  fixed  upon 
him,  and  her  face  blanched  to  a  hue  hardly  different  to  his ; 
while  the  old  woman  whispered  :  "  Poor  gentleman  !  He  won't 
see  you — no  need  to  fear — he  won't  know  as  any  one's  nigh.  He 
don't  notice  me ;  he  ha'n't  opened  his  eyes,  scarce,  since  here 
he's  been.  It's  thought  his  horse  was  scared  by  the  lightning, 
and  throwed  him  ;  and  that  his  head  was  hurted  in  the  fall ;  for 
doctor  says,  fever's  come  on,  and  if  he  ben't  kept  quiet,  it'll  go 
hard  with  him,  for  all  he's  young  and  strong.  Poor  soul !  it's  :it 
such  times  as  these,  that  the  young  and  the  strong,  the  old  and 
the  weak,  the  rich  man  and  the  working  man,  the  gentry  and  the 
labourer,  fare  and  fare  alike,  and  bide. their  time  to  thrive  or  to 
fall,  to  recover  or  to  die,  as  God  wills.  He  don't  look  much 
different  from  any  other  sick  body,  now  do  he  ?  He  might  be  a 
poor  mason  as  had  fell  from  a  house-top, — or  he  might  be 
Squire  Worthington  of  Worthington  Court,  whichever,  and 
nobody  guess  the  odds,  as  he  lies  there  at  this  minute,  bid'n*  his 


THE  IRON  cm  447 

time  to  live  or  die,  mightn't  he  ?  That's  one  comfort  for  us  poor 
folks.  Gentries  don't  look  much  different  from  us,  when  they're 
laid  on  their  sick  beds ;  nor  they  don't  stand  a  better  chance  to 
win  through  with  it,  and  get  well  again,  than  we  do." 

"  But  he  will  win  through  it— he  will  get  well  ? "  asked 
K:it i«,  eagerly.  "  The  doctor  thinks  he  will  recover,  does  he  not  ?  " 

"  Oh  ay,  doctors  always  thinks  folks  '11  recover,  if  there's  no 
reason  why  their  friends  should  be  frighted,  and  made  to  think 
'cm  worse  than  they  are,"  answered  Dame  Grayfield.  "  Doctor 
na'id  he'd  likely  do  well  enough  if  he  was  taken  care  on,  and  kept 
ijuiet,  and  well  nussed  ;  and  I'll  nuss  him  well,  I  promise  you. 
Doctor  says  I  shall  be  handsomely  paid  for  my  trouble,  and  my 
houscroom  ;  and  more  nor  that,  I'd  nuss  him  well,  and  try  to 
bring  him  round,  if  'twas  only  for  the  sake  of  what  I  hear  he's 
oeen  to  the  poor  when  he  was  up  and  about.  It  won't  do,  to 
have  such  a  good  friend  to  us,  lost  for  want  of  a  little  good 
missing." 

How  Kate  Ircton  longed  that  she  herself  could  have  stayed 
to  nurse  Ferinor  Worthington  I  How,  at  that  instant,  she  wished 
he  had  been  indeed  her  brother,  that  she  might  have  remained  to 
tend  him  with  a  sister's  care !  She  half  resolved  she  would  brave 
all — assert  her  cousin's  right  to  stay  and  watch  her  kinsman,  and 
remain  by  his  side  to  attend  him,  to  minister  to  him,  and  think 
for  him,  to  wait  upon  him,  to  perform  the  thousand  services  which 
affection  prompts  for  the  better  alleviation  and  restoring  of  tbo 
beloved  patient.  She  felt  as  if  she  better  than  any  one,  could  on- 
ilerst;nnl  how  to  render  offices  which  should  serve  to  mitigate  pain 
and  suffering,  to  foster  recovery,  and  win  back  health  and  strength. 
Yet  then  Kate's  self-doubt  returned,  and  suggested  the  quo 
\\liv  should  she  believe  herself  beat  fitted  to  yield  these  services; 
why  assume  that  she  could  perform  the  part  of  a  nurse  better  than 
one  in  whose  hands  the  doctor  had  been  content  to  leave  the  of- 
fice ;  why  seek  to  appropriate  a  charge  which  had  already  been 
eoufiilfil  to  another,  'inpctent  Kate  Ireton,  in  her  pe- 

riod of  niMi-al  ilis.-i|.!: 
eut<Tt:iin  r!i:!iiv  a  nv 
il.ilitv      «  ::!M  r  t"  i  ;  •  'I"  "•••II. 


448  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

With  a  few  words  of  grateful  thanks  to  Daine  Grayfield  foi 
permitting  her  to  see  him  she  called  her  benefactor,  and  earnestly 
commending  him  to  the  old  woman's  best  and  kindest  care,  Katt 
took  her  way  back  to  her  cottage  home. 


CHAPTER   XLIX. 

BY  several  open  and  direct  means,  likewise,  Kate's  perpetual  long- 
ing to  know  how  Fermor  progressed  was  satisfied.  Ruth  Field, 
knowing  how  eager  she  would  naturally  be  to  hear  of  her  cousin'a 
state,  after  the  news  of  his  accident  had  reached  them,  gleaned  all 
the  intelligence  she  could,  concerning  him,  from  the  school  chil- 
dren who  came  from  the  neighbourhood  of  the  hamlet. 

Ben  Dimble,  also,  on  learning  what  had  befallen  Mr.  Worth- 
ington,  made  it  his  frequent  business  to  go  over  and  enquire  how 
he  was,  and  bring  round  the  report  to  the  school-cottage. 

Once  he  brought  the  welcome  tidings  that  Mr.  Worthipgton 
was  better ;  that  the  fever  had  taken  a  turn ;  that  ho  had  opened 
his  eyes,  recognized  that  he  was  in  a  strange  place  and  among 
strange  people,  and  had  expressed  a  desire  to  be  taken  to  his  own 
house. 

But  that  the  doctor,  when  he  heard  this,  had  peremptorily  for- 
bidden any  such  removal,  as  likely  to  be  attended  with  dangeroua 
consequences  ;  and  that  soon  after,  Mr.  Worthington  had  had  a 
relapse  of  fever  which  had  proved  how  unequal  he  was  to  bear  the 
slightest  attempt  of  the  kind. 

She  heard  that  he  wandered ;  was  restless ;  and  complained 
much  of  the  closeness  and  confinement  of  the  room  in  which  he 
lay, — saying  he  felt  stifled,  stifled. 

"  And  I  dare  say  he  does,  poor  gentleman,  feel  the  difference 
:twixt  the  space  and  comfort  of  his  own  large  airy  rooms,  and  that 
little  low-raftered  place  in  yonder  hut,  Miss  Kate;"  said  Ben. 
'  To  such  as  know  what  'tis  to  want  a  roof  at  all,  such  a  place 


THE    IRON   COUSIN.  443 

• 

must  seem  comfortable  enough ;  but  to  him,  poor  gentleman,  that'* 
been  used  all  his  life  to  luxury  and  graudeur,  with  plenty  o' 
breathing  space,  I  shouldn't  wonder  it  seems  little  better  than  a 
rat-hole." 

The  image  of  Fermor  thirsting  for  air, — for  fresher,  freer  at- 
mosphere— haunted  Kate.  She  could  think  of  nothing  else.  She 
understood  so  entirely  the  sensation.  She  could  BO  thoroughly 
sympathize  with  the  panting  desire  for  pure,  open,  clear  air,  as  a 
renovation  to  the  spirit,  invigoration  to  the  frame.  And  if  to  oue 
in  health  and  activity  such  breathing-space  were  a  pressing  want, 
how  doubly  and  trebly  must  it  be  necessary  to  the  fevered  suf- 
ferer. 

She  could  not  resist  the  intense  longing  she  felt,  to  bo  the 
means  of  procuring  him  this  vital  need;  and  that  night,  again 
wrapping  herself  closely  in  Matty's  bat  and  cloak,  she  set  forth 
upon  her  ministering  errand. 

A  speech  of  Fermor's  that  she  had  once  heard  him  make,  came 
into  her  mind  as  she  speeded  on.  She  recollected  how  he  had 
always  delightedly  dwelt  on  the  grateful  odour  of  woodbine.  She 
remembered  his  words,  as  a  boy,  when  she  had  been  struck  by  such 
a  burst  of  enthusiasm  about  a  mere  flower,  from  oue  of  his  nature, 
upon  his  exclaiming: — "A  whole  atmosphere  of  content  and  re- 
fre.-hment  lies  in  the  smell  of  honeysuckle — to  my  sense,  at  least  1 n 
She  remembered  how  fondly  associated  it  was  in  his  mind,  with 
home  feelings,  and  home  comforts  and  enjoyments;  and  she  re- 
aolved  that  since  he  could  not  now  be  transported  to  his  home,  be 
should  have  something  of  that  home's  luxurious  and  refined  grati- 
fication brought  to  him.  She  pleased  herself  with  the  thought 
that  some  particle  of  the  content  and  refreshment  he  had  spoken  of 
might  subtly  address  itself  to  his  senses  even  through  the  excite- 
ment and  inapprehcnsivencss  of  fever. 

Full  of  this  hope,  she  made  her  way  round  by  Worthington 
Court ;  crossed  the  park ;  stole  up  to  the  terrace;  gathered  a  large 
handful  of  the  rich,  dew-laden  blossoms;  and  then  retraced  her 
way  with  her  treasure. 

Arrive1,  at  Dame  Gravtiehl's,  Kate  f.-und  the  oldwoiuaui 


450  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

what  cross,  at  being  disturbed  out  of  a  comfortable  nap,  into  which 
she  had  recently  fallen.  But  on  seeing  who  it  was,  the  dame  gra- 
ciously admitted  her ;  saying,  she  knew  it  was  her  only  time  to 
come,  and  that  she  could  make  allowance,  knowing  herself  what 
it  was  not  to  have  a  minute  o'  time  one  could  call  one's  own,  for  what 
ought  to  be  done. 

She  took  the  opportunity  of  Kate's  being  there  to  watch  the 
sick  man,  that  she  might  set  in  order  one  or  two  of  her  kitchen  ar- 
rangements, which  had  been  of  late  neglected  for  her  nursing  du- 
ties ;  bidding  Kate  go  in  by  herself  this  time,  since  she  had  shown 
before  she  could  keep  still,  and  might  judge  with  her  own  eyes 
how  he  was  looking. 

"  He's  quiet  enough  now ;  but  he's  been  sadly  ramblin'  and 
wand'rin'  all  day.  He's  fallen  into  a  dog-sleep  to-night ;  so  mind 
how  you  move  about ;  I  wouldn't  have  him  waked  for  ever  so 
much  !  He's  least  trouble  when  he's  dozin' ;  and  more  nor  that, 
Doctor  said  if  he  could  get  a  fine  long,  sound  sleep,  it  might  do 
him  all  the  good  in  the  world,  and  be  the  beginnin'  of  his  gettin' 
well." 

Kate  crept  into  the  room,  as  though  she  had  been  shod  with 
velvet. 

Now  she  could  look  upon  him  with  perfect  unrestraint.  Now, 
unwitnessed,  she  could  allow  her  whole  soul  to  pour  forth  its  over- 
flowing tide  of  affection  through  her  eyes,  as  they  rested  passion- 
ately upon  his  countenance.  Now,  she  might  peruse  his  features, 
and  note  them  to  her  heart's  content,  with  such  full  liberty  as 
never  yet  had  been  hers.  Now,  while  she  scanned  the  effect  which 
illness  had  wrought,  and  anxiously  traced  its  sad  vestiges,  she 
might  satisfy  the  yearning  to  gaze  with  unrestricted  freedom  upon 
Fermor's  face,  owning  to  herself  the  while,  that  she  loved  it, — 
that  she  loved  him.  The  more  that  she  promised  herself  never 
again  to  look  upon  it  thus, — the  more  that  she  enjoined  herself 
never  again  to  indulge  in  such  rapturous  tenderness  of  gaze, — the 
less  did  she  now  scruple  to  allow  herself  the  momentary  transport 
of  beholding  him  at  perfect  ease,  in  perfect  unreserve. 

And  now,  she  perceived  how  flushed  and  fevered  he  was  ;  how 


THE   IRON   COUSW.  461 

nil  tlic  wanness  and  pallor  were  gone ;  and  how  they  were  replaced 
by  a  bright  hectic  colour  upon  cheek  and  brow.  She  put  back 
the  scattered  hair;  she  arranged  the  pillow  smoothly  and  coolly 
about  the  heated  face ;  she  felt  the  burning  hands,  and  placed 
them  more  easily  upon  the  straightened  coverlet. 

Then  she  went  to  the  lattice ;  and  disposing  the  curtain  in  such 
a  way  that  it  should  screen  off  the  immediate  current,  she  opened 
the  casement  80  as  to  admit  sufficient  of  the  outer  air,  to  create 
a  circulation  in  the  small,  close-pent  chamber.  She  then  poured 
out  water  from  the  ewer ;  and  arranged  the  honey-suckles  in  a 
jjlass  upon  the  mantel-shelf;  and  then  once  more  she  went  to  the 
bedside,  to  watch  the  sleeper  until  Dame  Grayfield  should  re- 
turn. 

He  turned  restlessly,  and  uttered  a  slight  moan  ;  then, — af- 
tor  a  pause, — a  heavy  sigh. 

This  sound,  coming  from  one  whom  she  had  always  known  of 
so  quiet,  unperturbed,  and  undemonstrative  a  demeanour,  inex- 
pressibly affected  Kate  Ireton. 

She  bent  over  him ;  she  nearly  touched  his  hot  check  with  her 
own  cool  one — fresh  from  the  pure  open  air ;  she  again  passed  her 
soft  hands  lightly  upon  his  burning  temples,  and  once  more  drew 
aside  the  masses  of  disordered  hair.  A  fleeting  smile  crossed  die 
parched  lips,  as  though  a  sense  of  relief  and  contentment  reached 
the  sleeper. 

She  breathed  a  fervent  prayer  that  this  slumber  might  be  the 
herald  of  recovery;  and  not  long  after,  the  old  d.une  returned, 
thanking  Kate  i'.»r  having  t:iken  her  post  in  the  interim. 
little  thought  how  profoundly  that  gratitude  was  felt  by  her  whom 
she  addressed  ;  as  with  quiet,  kindly  words,  Kate  bade  her  good- 
i  iirht,  and  returned  home. 


As  morning  dawned,  Fcrnior  W.»rt!iiii._'ton  awoke  out  of  a 
deep  sleep  \vhiel.  had  lasted  some  hmiM.  H«  1'dt  ahlo  to  collect 
hi.*  thrightB  more  sandy  and  nr-re  e,,i!i|.',M-dly  ilr.m  he  had  yef 


452  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

done  since  his  accident ;  but  the  thoughts  themselves  were  all  cou 
fused  and  dim, — the  flitting  visionary  impressions  of  fever  and 
wandering  delirium. 

He  seemed  to  have  been  aware  of  some  one  in  his  room,  other 
than  his  nurse.  But  who  it  was,  he  could  form  no  idea.  He 
could  distinctly  define  its  figure,  but  that  figure  conveyed  no  in- 
dividual impersonation.  He  imagined  he  had  seen  a  woman  in  a 
red  cloak,  standing  at  the  window,  and  arranging  something  be- 
fore it ;  some  drapery,  or  hanging,  that  she  seemed  to  be  dispos- 
ing so  as  to  exclude  the  rays  of  the  moon,  which  he  thought  pour- 
ed into  the  chamber.  Then  he  fancied  he  had  seen  this  same 
figure  stationed  with  its  back  towards  him,  placing  some  flowers, 
— honey-suckles,  as  it  seemed  to  him, — in  water,  upon  the  man- 
tel shelf ;  and  that  he  had  observed  a  pair  of  white,  delicate  hands, 
protruding  from  the  coarse  market-cloak,  which  seemed  strange- 
ly contradictory  and  perplexing. 

Then  he  seemed  to  have  dreamed, — in  the  odd  bewildering 
of  identity  with  which  such  dreams  abound, — that  he  was  at  Heath- 
cote  Hall ;  that  he  was  sitting  in  the  'Squire's  arm-chair ;  that 
he  was  the  'Squire  himself,  and  that  he  saw  his  niece,  Kate  Ire- 
ton,  bending  over  him,  and  that  he  felt  her  soft  cool  hands 
hovering  about  him,  near  to  his  forehead,  but  that  they  were 
somehow  associated  with  the  white  hands  belonging  to  the  figure 
of  the  woman  in  the  red  cloak ;  that  he  had  felt  the  wavy  hair 
sweeping  over  his  face,  and  the  balmy  breath;  mingled  with  the 
fragrance  of  the  honey-suckles,  playing  across  his  lips ;  and  he 
thought  that  he  repeated  (in  his  person,  as  it  were)  those  words 
he  had  so  often  heard  the  'Squire  say  : — "  Give  me  a  kiss,  and 
have  your  own  way  !  "  And  then  that  vision  had  faded — the  long, 
shining  hair  had  vanished — the  perfume  was  gone — the  soft  handa 
withdrawn — and  in  their  stead,  nothing  remained  but  the  strange 
figure  in  the  red  cloak. 

That  still  dwelt  so  palpably  with  him, — before  him, — that  he 
turned  to  ask  his  nurse,  who  sat  there  at  his  bedside,  whether 
she  did  not  see  the  figure  also  ;  but  in  the  act  of  moving  he  lost 
Bight  of  it,  and  knew  that  it  was  a  vision  like  the  rest. 


TIIK  TIIUX  corsiw.  453 

Yet  still  it  returned,  vividly,  distinctly,  more  positively  and 
substantially  than  aught  else.  He  could  not  help,  at  last  asking 
Dame  Grayfield  whether  any  one  had  been  in  the  room  beside 

herself. 

"  Was  there  not  a  neighbour,— some  woman,— who  came 
and  helped  you  with  your  sick  watch  last  night,  dame  ?"  he  said. 

"  You  saw  her,  then  ?  "  was  the  answer.  "  I  bade  her  not  dis- 
turb you." 

"  She  did  not  disturb  me, — she  made  no  noise, — she  glided 
about  like  an  apparition,— I  thought  she  had  been  one.  Bat  you 
say  it  was  a  real  person ;  who  was  it  ?  " 

'  Nay,  I  don't  know ;  she  don't  live  hereabouts, — she's  no 
neighbour.  She's  some  poor  woman,  that  your  honor,  it  seems, 
has  been  kind  to.  She  said  you  had  been  her  benefactor,  her 
friend, — her  best  friend,  she  said.  She  seems  a  grateful  body, 
and  wanted  to  know  how  your  honour  got  on  in  your  fever;  for 
she  said  you  had  helped  her  in  her  distress,  — '  with  more  than 
common  help,'  was  her  word." 

"  Did  she  stay  long  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  didn't  notice  in  partic'l'r.  But  she  staid  long 
enough  to  show  she  don't  know  how  to  nuss,  with  all  her  good 
will  to  your  honour.  What  did  she  do,  but  set  open  the  window 
while  my  back  was  turned.  Enough  to  give  a  sick  man  his  death 
o'  cold  !  Then  she  must  needs  fig  out  the  mantel-shelf  with  a 
parcel  o'  honey-suckle  blossoms ;  as  if  any  child  didn't  know  that 
cut  flowers  in  a  sick-room's  little  better  than  p'ison.  But  I  chuck- 
ed 'em  away,  pretty  quick,  minute  I  spied  'em." 

"  She  brought  honey-suckles  ?  " 

"  Ay,  did  she ;  but  I  wasn't  a  goin1  to  let  'em  bide  wbere  she 
HtiK-k  'em.  I  inarched  'cm  out  o'  the  room,  afore  they  could  do 
your  honour  any  harm.'' 

<;  They  would  have  done  mo  no  harm — I  like  them  ;  I  wuh 
you  had  let  them  remain,  since  she  brought  them  for  me.  Who 
could  she  be  ?  What  sort  of  person  was  she  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know ;  a  oommonish  sort  of  a  body,  enough." 

••  1 1  .wn  hair  1 "  said  Permor,  his  thought*  i 

krin.'  tn  tin-  ctli.T  blcti'li-'l  til 


454  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  Lauk,  no  !     No  hair  at  all." 

"  Young  ?  " 

"Young!  no,  I  shouldn't  say  as  how  she  was.  Young  gals 
seldom  dresses  in  that  sort  of  hunch y-bunchy,  muffly  kind  o'  way. 
She'd  got  a  common  red  cloak  on,  and  a  tie  down  black  hat 
Quite  a  plain,  good  sort  o'  body,  as  you  may  say." 

Fermor  turned  round  feverishly  and  fretfully,  with  his  face 
away  from  the  mumping  toothless  nurse.  Her  voice  grated  upon 
his  ear.  "  A  plain  sort  of  body — red  cloak — black  hat,"  he  mut 
tered.  "  Ah,  yes ;  some  of  my  worthy  tenants.  Goody  Johnson, 
perhaps.  Ay,  the  honeysuckles !  Goody  Johnson,  to  be  sure : 
Goody  Johnson." 


CHAPTER  L. 

NOT  many  days  after  this.  Lucy  Chalkby  came  to  bring  Ruth  the 
paper,  and  to  chat  over  the  news  of  the  neighbourhood.  Among 
other  reports,  she  mentioned  having  heard  that  poor  Mr.  Wor- 
thington,  who  had  had  the  bad  accident  and  fever,  and  been  laid 
up,  at  Dame  Grayfield's,  was  pronounced  sufficiently  recovered  to 
be  removed  to  his  own  house.  But  though  modest  little  Lucy 
Chalkby  chatted  on,  and  tried  her  beet  to  be  good  company,  she 
looked  tearful  and  troubled,  and  as  if  she  had  something  on  her 
timid  little  mind,  that  was  dying  to  flutter  itself  out  in  confiden- 
tial communication  to  her  two  good  friends  the  school-moni- 
tresses. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Lucy  ?  "  inquired  Kate,  at  length,  see- 
ing that  she  wanted  encouragement  to  speak.  "  Has  anything 
happened  to  grieve  you  ?  Have  you  been  vexed  ?  " 

"  Not  vexed ;  only  miserable." 

"  '  Only  miserable  ! '  Is  not  that  enough  ?  Is  it  not  worse 
than  being  vexed  ?  " 

"  Well  perhaps  it  is,"  sighed  Lucy.  "  At  any  rate,  it's  very 
oard  to  bear.  Oh,  I  -yish  there  was  no  such  thing  as  marrying  I 


THE  IRON  CO!  455 

A.t  least,  I  wish  father  wouldn't  think  about  having  me  married 
Or  if  he  will  think  about  it,  I  wish  he  wouldn't  have  such  a  fan- 
cy for  having  me  married  to  somebody  worthy  of  me,  as  he  calls 
it." 

'•  Why,  you  wouldn't  wish  to  be  married  to  any  one  unworthy 
of  you,  \vould  you,  Lucy  ?  "  asked  lluth,  with  her  tjuiet  smile. 

"  Oh  no,  of  course  not !  But  still,  what  I  think  worthy,  and 
what  father  thinks  worthy,  is  so  different.  He  has  such  a  notion 
of  what  he  calls  intellectual  people.  He  says  that  I,  having  been 
brought  up  among  the  Arts  all  my  life,  ought  to  have  an  ambi- 
tion above  sitting  down  contented  with  an  uuintellectual  or  un- 
arti-tic  person  for  a  husband.  But  I  don't  care  for  artistic  and 
intellectual  people — they  worry  me.  Why,  now,  there's  father, 
he's  an  intellectual  man  ;  but  he  sadly well,  I  won't  say  wor- 
ries me — but  he  torments  me  to  death  with  his  intellectuality. 
And  after  all,  what  is  there  so  very  intellectual  in  selling  Berlin 
wools,  and  patterns  and  picture-frames  ?  If  he  sells  prints,  too, 
why,  it  don't  make  him  an  engraver,  or  an  artist,  does  it  ?  But 
he  says  he  knows  an  artist  who  he's  sure  would  have  me,  if  I'd 
only  say  the  word.  '  Would  have  me  ! '  As  if  I  wanted  to  be 
had  !  K-pecially  by  any  artistic  or  intellectual  person.  I  loathe 
the  very  name  of  them,  I  hear  so  much  of  them.  They're  suoh  a 
set  of  owls — that  is,  for  husbands  !  " 

"  I  fancy,  Lucy,  there  is  some  particular  person,  not  precise- 
ly remarkable  for  intellectual  or  artistic  attainments,  who  has 
caused  this  violent  objection  of  yours  against  those  so  distin- 
guished," laughed  Kate.  "  Is  it  not  so  ?  " 

•  Well,  he's  certainly  not  what  would  bo  called  an  intellectual 
person,  like  father,  or  by  father ;  but  he's  no  fool,"  replied  Lucy, 
hastily  and  earnestly. 

"  Who's  no  fool,  Lucy  ?  "  returned  Kate,  •juii-tly. 

M  Why,  MiKs  Oatland,"  answered  Lucy.     Then  recollecting 

If,  she  added,  blushing  and  dimpling  through  the  U»rs 

which  her  diatribe  against  intellectual  people,  and  the  dread  of 

being  forced  into  having  one  of  them  for  a  husband,  had  called 

forth,      A  ,-au-lit  in- '     KH'  i  ..liamcdof  own- 


456  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

ing  my  love  for  Miles.  He  loves  me.  We've  loved  each  other 
from  children ;  and  I'll  never  have  any  husband,  if  I  don't  have 
him  ;  and  he'll  never  have  any  wife,  if  not  me.  I  always  thought 
father  meant  me  to  have  him.  And  so  I  really  think  lie  would, 
if  he  hadn't  got  this  ridiculous  idea  into  his  head  of  my  marrying 
an  intellectual  person.  I  detest  intellectual  people  !  They're  so 
stupid,  so  dull,  so  absurd." 

"  And  Miles  Oatland  is,  of  course,  neither  stupid,  dull,  nor 
absurd  ?  "  smiled  Kate. 

"  What,  Miles  ?  Oh,  the  very  reverse  !  He  is  all  life  and 
spirit ;  so  clever,  so  accomplished.  Why,  he's  the  best  swimmer 
in  the  county  ;  he  hasn't  his  match  at  cricket ;  he's  a  fine  wrest- 
ler; and  could  beat  any  two  Englishmen,  or  any  half-dozen 
Frenchmen,  at  single-stick.  And  then,  he's  so — so — but  that 
don't  matter,  to  be  sure." 

"  So  what  ?  "  said  Kate. 

"  Oh,  nothing;  it's  of  no  consequence  compared  with  the 
rest,  certainly." 

"  Well,  if  it's  nothing — if  it's  of  no  consequence,  let  us  hear 
what  this  trifle  is,  in  addition  to  his  other  qualifications.  Be- 
sides, then,  being  so  gifted  in  manly  accomplishments,  it  seems 
that  Miles  Oatland  is  so — so " 

"  So  handsome  !  Oh,  so  handsome  !  "  said  Lucy.  "  He's 
such  a  fine  manly-looking  fellow,  and  so  brave  ;  and  so — 
so " 

"  What,  more  unspeakable  sos,  Lucy  ?  "  laughed  Kate. 

"  Yes ;  he's  so — very  fond  of  me,"  blushed  Lucy. 

"  And  you're  so — so — very  fond  of  him,  eh,  Lucy  ?  "  returned 
Kate. 

"  Well,  yes — we  love  each  other  dearly ;  and  if  I'm  to  give 
up  Miles  Oatland  for  some  dolt  of  an  intellectual  person,  I'll  go 
mad,  or  throw  myself  out  of  the  window,  or  do  some  desperate 
thing  or  other.  And  if  Miles  is  to  lose  me,  he  swears  he'll 
drown  himself." 

"  Being  such  an  excellent  swimmer,  he  might  have  some  diffi- 
culty in  doing  that.  However,  we  must  have  no  rash  attempts 


THE   IRON    COUSIN.  457 

npon  his  life.  We  must  see  if  we  can't  mollify  your  father  ;  not 
only  induce  him  to  give  up  his  ambitious  ideas  of  seeing  you 
matched  to  intellect,  which  you  disdain,  but  try  if  we  can't 
persuade  him  into  letting  you  marry  the  man  you  love,  who's  only 
a  brave,  handsome,  manly  fellow,  well  skilled  in  cricket,  single- 
stick, swimming,  and  wrestling." 

"  And  farming,"  said  Lucy.  "  Miles  Oatland  is  an  excellent 
farmer,  like  his  father  before  him.  He's  no  mere  idler;  but  a 
steady,  industrious,  high-principled  young  man." 

"  Now,  indeed,  you  have  told  me  of  qualifications  which 
ought  to  have  weight  with  your  father.  Have  patience,  dear 
Lucy,  and  all  will — all  must — go  well.  But  chiefly,  be  sure  you 
prevail  with  your  lover  to  have  patience." 

"  Ah,  there's  the  difficulty  !  "  sighed  Lucy.  "  Miles  is  so 
afraid  of  father's  carrying  his  point,  and  marrying  me  against  my 
will  to  his  favourite  stick  of  an  artist  (I  dare  say  he's  some 
wretched  dauber,  some  nobody,  some  fright  with  a  moustache  and 
bushy  beard,  as  ugly  as  sin,  who  thinks  himself  a  second  Titian 
on  the  strength  of  his  own  hair,  instead  of  his  camel-hair),  that 
he  wants  to  persuade  me  to  run  away,  and  get  safe  married  to 
him,  and  trust  to  fate  that  father  will  forgive  us,  when  all's  done 
and  can't  be  undone." 

'•  No,  no,"  said  Kate,  "  you  must  not  think  of  any  such  wild 
proceedings.  Neither  drowning  nor  eloping.  Promise  me  that 
you  will  not  think  of  running  away,  Lucy,  or  doing  anything  that 
shall  grieve  your  father.  But  meantime  try  and  pacify  Miles 
Oatland  ;  induce  him  to  wait  hopefully,  and  trust  to  your  con- 
staii'-y  and  steadfastness,  while  you  endeavour  to  wean  your 
father  from  his  fancy  for  an  artistic  or  intellectual  son  in-law,  by 
showing  him  that  you  desire  a  man  of  plain  good  sense,  and 
honest  practical  industry,  for  a  husband ;  who,  although  1» 
neither  wear  a  moustache,  nor  paint,  nor  write  a  book,  wai 
neither  skill  ror  intelligence." 

"  If  I  could  only  see  Miles,  I  might  perhaps  be  able  to 
persuade  him  to  patience,"  cried  Lucy.  "  But  father  keeps  tui 
S3  clus-j  within  d.-ors,  and  so  closely  watched,  that  I  scarcely 


458  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

ever  now  have  an  opportunity  of  speaking  to  Miles.  And  he's  sc 
quick-tempered  and  hasty,  that  I  dread  his  doing  something  vio- 
lent, if  he  should  hear  anything  that  should  make  him  think 
father  was  carrying  his  point,  before  I  can  tell  him  I  mean  to  be 
faithful  to  him  and  him  only."  And  poor  little  timid. Lucy 
Chalkby  wrung  her  hands  and  wept. 

Ruth  Field  was  calming  and  consoling  her,  when  Ben  Dimble 
appeared.  He  came  to  bring  Kate  word  of  -what  he  had  heard 
concerning  Mr.  Worthington's  being  so  far  better,  as  to  admit  of 
his  being  taken  home  to  "Worthington  Court. 

While  he  was  telling  her  this,  Lucy  Chalkby  took  leave,  say- 
ing her  father  would  miss  her  if  she  stayed  out  too  long,  and  be 
displeased  with  her.  As  she  passed  out  at  the  porch,  Kate 
nodded  cheerfully  to  her,  and  bade  her  be  sure  and  keep  up  her 
spirits,  and  hope  for  the  best ;  and  with  an  April  face,  she  went 
away. 

"  It  goes  to  one's  heart  to  see  a  woman  in  tears,"  said  Ben 
Dimble  ;  "  but  there  are  a  few  faces  in  the  world  that  look  some- 
how the  sweeter  for  being  washed  with  that  sort  o'  dew.  Lucy 
Chalkby's  pretty  face  is  one  of  'em.  It  can  bear  the  look  o'  cry- 
ing without  spoiling  its  beauty." 

Ben  did  not  venture  to  raise  his  eyes  towards  the  face  he  was 
thinking  of  whilst  he  said  this,  as  one  of  those  few  that  looked 
only  the  lovelier  for  weeping  and  sorrow,  or  he  would  have  seen 
Ruth's  usually  pale  cheek  take  a  heightened  tint. 

"  Lucy  Chalkby  is  certainly  very  pretty,  and  a  gentle,  diffi- 
dent, modest  girl ;  but  I  think  she,  like  the  rest  of  us,  is  hardly 
the  better  looking  for  swollen  eyes,  quivering  lips,  and  tear- 
stained  cheeks,"  smiled  Kate.  "  I  shall  hope  to  see  her, 
one  day,  her  old  dimple-mouthed,  mild-eyed,  brightly-blushing 
self  again  ;  and,  depend  on  it,  she  will  be  the  prettier  for  the 
change." 

"  P'rhaps  the  prettier  ;  but  there's  something  beyond  pretti- 
ness,  to  my  thinking,  Miss  Kate,  in  a  sad  look  upon  a  woman's 
face.  It  makes  a  chap  feel  more  kindly,  more  respecting^ 
towards  hex-.  It  makes  him  want  to  be  of  some  use — some  ser 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  459 

rice  to  her,  like.  When  she's  rosy,  and  bright,  and  happy  look 
ing,  she  seems  as  if  she  could  do  without  you — as  if  she  didn't 
want  you;  but  when  she's  downcast,  and  crying,  she  looks  AM 
though  she  asked,  without  speaking,  for  some  comfort,  some  help, 
that  p'rhaps  you  might  be  able  to  give  her." 

"At  that  rate,  Ben,  you  would  have  women  unhappy,  that 
you  might  have  the  pleasure  of  doing  what  you  could  to  comfort 
them  ?  "  said  Kate. 

"  Not  at  all,  Miss  Kate.  If  I  had  my  will,  no  woman  should 
ever  know  a  moment's  fretting;  but  as  there  must  be  misery  in 
the  world — for  some  good  cause  that  God  knows,  though  I  don't 
— I  could  wish  to  do  what  lay  in  my  poor  power  to  comfort  'em, 
when  I  see  'em  sorrowful.  It's  a  foolish  thought,  but  it's  mine." 

"  None  so  foolish,  Ben,  for  it's  a  kind  one,"  replied  Kate. 
"  Only  the  brutal  and  the  hard  confound  kindness  with  folly,  good- 
nature with  silliness,  gentle-heartedness  with  weakness.  To  sec- 
ond your  kindly  desire  of  consoling  the  unhappy,  I  will  give  you  a 
few  lines  to  carry  for  me  to  Lucy  Chalkby.  I  have  thought  of  some- 
thing, since  she  has  been  gone,  which  I  omittted  to  say  to  her, 
and  which,  I  think,  will  help  her  to  keep  up  her  spirits  hopefully 
and  cheerfully.  Will  you  call  there,  in  your  way  back,  and  give 
my  letter  into  her  own  hands,  Ben  ?  " 

"  I  am  going  to  Mr.  Chalkby's  myself :  I  am  obliged  to  go 
there  and  choose  some  slates  and  copy-books  that  we  want  for  the 
children,"  said  Ruth.  "  I  can  take  your  letter  to  Lucy." 

"So  do,  Ruth;  and  as  Mr.  Chalkby's  shop  lies  all  in  Ben's 
way  home,  he  will  sec  you  safe  there;  will  you  not,  Ben?"  said 
Kate. 

« If  she— if  you,  Ruth,  don't  mind,"  he  faltered,  a*  h 
towards  her. 

«  Not  at  all,"  she  said,  Muietly.    And  Kate's  few  word* 
written,  Ben  and  Ruth  left  the  cottage  together.     They  went  out 
at  the  porch,  and  Ben  stepped  on  to  the  little  wicket^a*,  ai 
hold  it  open  for  Ruth  Field  to  pass  through,  as  if 

pea  an.l  h,-  lu-r  n-vcrential  subject.    He  made 
f, .,  ,,{'  bij  arm,  but  walked  close  beside  her,  ready  to  nipper 
•t' 


460  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  You  forget  that  I  am  still  lame ;  may  I  take  your  arm  ?  n 
she  said,  in  her  low  soft  voice. 

"  May  you,  Ruth !  "  was  all  his  answer,  as  he  gave  it  with  an 
eagerness  that  seemed  to  put  his  whole  heart  in  the  gesture. 

"  I  hardly  wonder  you  should  cease  to  remember  my  lameness, 
it  is  so  much  better  than  it  was,"  said  Ruih,  with  a  tone  of  placid 
cheerfulness.  "  I  walk  quite  strongly  to  what  I  used,  thanks  to 
our  kind  friend,  Miss  Ireton,  and  her  gentle,  generous  care  and 
consideration  for  me.  She  has  been  to  me  like  one  of  God's  saints, 
exalted,  beneficent,  gracious ;  as  though  it  were  her  nature  to  be 
benign,  nothing  of  condescension  or  patronage  ever  appearing  in 
her  manner.  She  has  acted  by  me  as  a  superior  being;  she  has 
treated  me  as  an  equal ;  she  is,  to  my  thought,  the  first,  the  no- 
blest, of  human  creatures — the  nearest  to  perfection  that  mortal 
can  be." 

"  I  don't  wonder  at  your  saying  this,  Ruth ;  it's  what  she 
must  seem  to  you.  To  me  she's  much  the  same.  I  look  up  to 
her,  for  what  she's  been  to — to — us  all.  She  stood  my  friend  with 
the  good  'Squire,  her  uncle,  when  I  was  dull,  and  desperate,  and 
slovened  my  work,  and  was  hardly  my  own  man ;  and  when,  if  it 
hadn't  been  for  Miss  Kate,  I  should  ha'  got  turned  away  in  dis- 
grace, as  a  careless,  good-for-nothing,  ungrateful  dog.  But  she 
got  me  leave  to  stay ;  and  I  did  my  best  to  show  I  wasn't 
careless,  far  less  ungrateful.  I  was  only  out  o'  heart  •  and  that 
I've  contrived  to  go  on  being,  without  letting  it  keep  me  from 
working  with  a  heart." 

"  Here  we  are  at  Mr.  Chalkby's,  Ben.  Thank  you  for  seeing 
me  to  the  door." 

"  Shall  I  go  in  with  you,  and  wait  while  you  do  your  errand, 
Ruth  ?  "  he  said. 

"  In  order  to  bear  your  share  in  carrying  Lucy  comfort  ?  " 
gmiled  Ruth,  with  the  same  slight  colour  coming  into  her  pale 
cheeks.  "  Are  you  willing  to  see  whether  the  tears  are  all  gone, 
and  whether  the  face  bears  composure  as  well  as  it  does  weeping 
and  crying  ?  " 

"  I  haven't  the  least  care  to  look  at  it  again,  either  sad  or 
smiling,"  said  Ben.  "  It's  a  pretty,  innocent  face,  that's  all." 


n:..x  COUSIN.  451 

" '  All ! ' »  said  Ruth;  to  herself,  aa  she  went  into  Mr.  Chalk. 

by's  shop. 

When  she  came  forth  again,  she  found  Ben  still  there,  waiting 
for  her  outside. 

';  You  still  here ! "  she  said,  in  surprise. 

"  Yea ;  I  didn't  know  but  you  might  be  glad  of  an  arm  home, 
and  was  only  too  glad  to  stay,  in  case." 

"  You  are  very  good— very  thoughtful,'  Baid  Ruth. 

" '  Good  ? '— <  Thoughtful  ? '  Thinking  of  myself,  you  mean  ?n 

:<  Indeed,  /  mean  no  such  thing.  It  is  impossible  for  you  to 
be  selfish,  Ben.  You  fancied  I  might  feel  lame  and  tired,  and  so 
waited  to  give  me  your  support  To  show  you  how  strong  I  am, 
I  will  walk  with  you  part  of  your  way  home,  just  across  the  two 
first  fields.  The  evening  is  so  fine,  it  will  be  of  service  to  me ;  it 
will  be  a  pleasure — a  holiday  to  me." 

"  Ruth,  it  is  you,  now,  who  are  '  good '  to  me — too  good — if 
"  he  stopped  short. 

Ruth  held  her  peace,  that  he  might  finish  his  sentence  if  he 
would,  but  finding  he  remained  silent,  she  said :  "  Ben,  we  shall 
hope,  the  first  time  you  hear  anything  farther  of  how  Mr.  Worth- 
ington  is  going  on,  that  you'll  find  time  to  come  over  and  tell  us. 
Miss  Ireton  is  naturally  very  anxious  about  her  cousin.  1 
her  only  relation — seemingly  her  only  friend,  and  it  speaks  well 
for  his  nobleness  of  character,  that,  when  she  lost  her  fortune  and 
her  station,  lie  should  still  remain  as  intimate  with  her  as  ever. 
He  is  a  perfect  gentleman  in  heart  and  mind,  as  well  as  in  person 
and  manner.  He  behaves  with  such  unaffected  consideration, 
with  so  much  unobtrusive  kindness  and  attention,  thai  he  U  a 
model  of  a  good  friend  and  cousin.  I  rejoice  that  she  has  such  a 
friend." 

"  She  deserves  the  best  o'  friends  herself,  being  so  good  a  friend 
to  others,"  answered  Ben.  "  Be  sure  I  shall  lose  no  chance  of 
Doming  over  as  soon  as  I  can,  to  bring  news  •  :  •  thiiigton 

to  say  nothing  of  coming  to  please  myself." 

You  are  resolved  to  make  it  put  that  you  are  a  very  selfiah 
person,  Ben,"  nniile-1  Knth.     "  When,  on  the  contrary,  Mias  Ire- 


462  THE    IRON    COUS1W. 

ton — who  ought  to  be  a  far  better  judge, — often  assures  me  you 
are  the  most  obliging,  kind-hearted  Ben  in  the  world." 

"God  bless  her  for  that !  "  said  Ben  ;  "  though  it's  only  her 
kind  wish  to  make  the  best  of  me." 

Just  then,  Ruth  Field  caught  sight  of  a  young  man  crossing  a 
stile,  at  the  opposite  side  of  the  field  in  which  they  were. 

"  Oh,  call  to  him,  Ben !  Shout !  I  sha'n't  be  able  to  make 
him  hear !  You  call  him  for  me !  Call  loud,  or  he'll  be  gone," 
she  said  eagerly. 

"  Who  is  he  ?     What  name  must  I  call  ?  "  asked  Ben. 

"  Miles  Oatland,"  she  answered. 

The  name  was  shouted  out  in  Ben  Dimble's  loudest  key. 

As  the  person  turned,  and  came  towards  them,  showing,  as  he 
advanced,  the  figure  of  a  tall,  athletic,  well-made,  well-featured 
young  man,  Ruth  Field  said  earnestly : — "  Ben,  good-bye.  I  will 
go  back  with  Miles ;  he  will  see  me  home.  I  want  to  speak  to 
him ;  to  say  a  few  words  to  him.  Good-bye,  Ben." 

"  Who  is  this  Miles  Oatland?  "  asked  Ben.  "  I  think  I've 
heard  of  him.  A  young  farmer,  isn't  he  ?  " 

"  Yes;  he's  a  neighbour  of  ours ;  his  two  little  sisters — much 
younger  than  he — half-sisters,  indeed,  come  to  our  school,"  said 
Ruth.  " But  he  is  here;  once  more,  good  bye,  Ben." 

When  Miles  Oatland  joined  Ruth  Field,  she  told  him  all  con- 
cerning Lucy  Chalkby ;  entreated  him  to  wait  patiently,  have  con- 
fidence in  her  resolve  to  preserve  her  faith  for  him,  and  to  take 
hope  from  Miss  Ireton's  and  her  own  endeavours  to  do  all  they 
could  towards  effecting  a  change  in  Mr.  Chalkby's  designs  for  his 
daughter's  bestowal.  She  told  him  she  believed  Miss  Ireton  in- 
tended herself  trying  to  persuade  Lucy's  father  to  hear  reason ; 
that  she  had  written  this  evening  to  Lucy,  to  tell  her  so ;  but  that 
she  thought  of  waiting  for  a  favourable  opportunity  of  introdu- 
cing her  appeal;  and  that,  above  all,  they  besought  Miles  himself 
to  trust  them  with  the  conduct  of  the  affair,  and  to  forbear  from 
all  rash  or  hasty  measures.  Miles  Oatland  promised  fairly  ;  only 
conjuring  Ruth,  if  possible,  to  obtain  him  an  interview  soon  with 
bis  Lucy,  from  which  he  might  gather  courage  and  patience 


THE   IRON    COUSIN. 


At  the  cottage  porch  they  parted;  and  when  Ruth  entered  the 
little  parlour,  Kate  received  her  with  a  playful  enquiry,  why  she 
Lad  loitered  so  long  on  her  errand  to  Mr.  Chalkby's. 

"I  extended  my  walk;  the  evening  was  so  tempting,  I  accom- 
panied Ben  part  of  his  way  home,"  replied  Ruth,  colouring. 

"  And  Ben,  in  common  civility,  could  do  no  less  than  return 
and  see  you  back  again  ;  eh,  Ruthy  ?  " 

"  It  was  not  Ben  who  saw  me  home,"  answered  Ruth. 

u  Who  then  ?  I  thought  I  saw  a  tall  young  man  bring  you  to 
the  door,—  just  Ben's  height  and  figure,"  said  Kate. 

"  It  was  Lucy  Chalkby's  handsome  lover,"  said  Ruth.  "  She 
might  well  admire  him.  He  has  a  fine,  manly  person  ;  and  a  good 
ingenuous  face.  But  he  is  not  better  looking  than  —  not  so  hand- 
some —  as  —  as  —  others,"  concluded  Ruth. 

"  '  Others  '  meaning  «  Ben,'  "  thought  Kato  to  herself.  "  Aha, 
Ruthy  !  Is  it  so  ?  Your  heart  is  becoming  sufficiently  free,  to 
let  your  eyes  use  their  judgment,  is  it?  Let  it  have  time  ;  let  it 
have  time  ;  and  it  will  yet  do  poor  Ben  full  justice." 


CHAPTER  LI. 

Tin: UK  was  one  of  Ruth  Field's  little  scholars,  that  had  taken  a 
vehement  fancy  to  her.  It  was  a  pretty,  fair-haired  darling — 
somewhat  unruly  and  headstrong, — the  only  child  of  Richard 
IJliirh,  a  wheelwright,  who  had  been  left  a  young  widower,  with  this 
little  creature  hardly  more  than  of  infantine  years.  It  still  re- 
quired a  mother's  care;  and  gentle  Ruth  had  yielded  it  all  tin- 
fondling  attention,  and  tender  thoughtful  heed,  which  the  mother- 

ibo  had  seemed  to  demand  of  her,  when  thrown  into  In 
tcction,  by  being  sent  to  school  where  she  was  Rub-monitrexx.     It 
was  a  lively,  bright-eyed,  rosy-cheeked,  chubby  bantling,  full  of 
health,  and  spirit  and  noisy  vivacity.     It  was  often  almost  too 
touch  for  her,  in  its  ceaseless  demands    upon  her  strength  and 


464  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

cheerfulness — she,  so  fragile  and  so  quiet ;  but  Ruth  felt  that  it 
was,  in  a  manner,  peculiarly  committed  to  her,  by  its  father's  and 
its  own  bereft  condition,  and  the  especial  liking  it  had  conceived 
towards  herself.  Little  Jessy  would  mind  no  one  so  implicitly  as 
Ruth  Field  ;  and  showed  affection  for  few  else.  With  others  she 
was  fractious,  troublesome,  restless,  mischievous ;  with  Ruth  she 
was  docile,  tractable,  loving,  happy.  She  would  nestle  near  her, 
hang  upon  her  skirts,  and  seek  to  be  taken  upon  her  lap,  or  borne 
in  her  arms,  the  livelong  day.  She  was  always  hovering  about 
Ruth,  and  coaxing  to  be  held  by  her.  She  was  still  young  enough 
to  like  to  be  nursed,  and  petted ;  to  have  many  of  her  baby  ways 
still ;  to  prefer  being  seated  on  a  kneee,  rather  than  sitting  on  a 
form  or  a  chair ;  and  to  feel  much  more  willing  to  be  carried  than 
to  walk.  But  though  she  was  such  a  child  in  years,  and  ways, 
she  was  bigger  in  bulk  and  weight  than  poor  weakly  Ruth  could 
well  manage,  without  considerable  difficulty ;  and  her  kindliness  to- 
wards the  little  creature  was  perpetually  at  issue  with  her  power. 

One  day,  Ben  Dimble, — on  his  way  to  bring  Miss  Kate  news 
— he  had  heard  of  her  cousin's  having  been  so  much  better,  as  to- 
have  left  his  room  that  morning, — met  Ruth  Field,  taking  home 
Jessy  Bligh  to  her  father's  cottage.  The  little  one  had  been  un- 
usually obstreperous,  and  peremptory  in  her  demands  to  be  car- 
ried ;  and  Ruth  was  bending  beneath  her  dumpling  weight,  when 
Ben  came  up. 

Seeing  her  thus  burdened,  he  hastened  to  relieve  her;  but 
Jessy  kicked,  and  struggled,  and  screamed,  vowing  she  would  not 
leave  her  dear,  pretty  Ruthy,  that  she  wouldn't !  However,  Ben 
was  not  to  be  foiled  in  his  determination  to  see  Ruth  freed  from 
her  charge,  and  took  the  child  from  her,  in  spite  of  its  desperate 
resistance. 

"  You're  a  bad  ugly  man !      A  naughty,  frightful,    hateful 

ogre  !  "  roared  Jessy,  pushing  his  face  from  her,  while  she  thump- 

cl  and  tore  at  it  with  all  the  force  of  her  angry  little  hands. 

How  dare  you  take  me  from  my  dear,  beautiful  Ruthy,  my  own 

kind  Ruthy !  How  dare  you  ?  " 

"  If  you  love  your  Ruthy,  you  wouldn't  surely  wish  to  hurt 


THK    IRON    COUSIN  45J 

her ;  and  you  do  hurt  her.  You're  too  heavy  for  her ,  you  pain 
her  arms,  you  make  her  back  ache,  you  weigh  her  down.  You 
oughtn't  to  make  her  carry  you." 

"  But  I  like  her  to  carry  me ;  I  like  her,  and  I  don't  like  you  ! 
I  hate  you,  you  ugly,  wicked,  horrible  monster.  You're  uglier 
than  the  great  big  ogre  in  the  picture  book,  that's  trying  to  dash 
out  Jack's  brains  with  the  large  club.  Go  away  ;  set  me  down  ; 
give  me  back  to  Ruthy.  She  has  a  pretty,  white,  gentle  face ; 
an«l  you've  a  nasty,  frightful,  red  one;  I  hate  it,  I  hate  you,  you're 
so  u-ly." 

"  Jessy  !  Jessy !  "  said  Ruth,  admonishingly. 

"  Well,  hasn't  he  a  great,  ugly,  frightful  face?  So  red  like 
the  ogre  ;  such  great  eyes,  like  the  ogre ;  such  bright  streaks  of 
lips,  just  like  the  ogre.  Isn't  he  hideous,  just  like  the  ogre! 
Look  at  him,  Ruthy  !  Isn't  he  frightfully  ugly  ?  " 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  you  silly  little  goose !"  said  Ruth.  "  You 
don't  know  what  you're  talking  of." 

•'  She's  no  goose  to  think  a  white,  gentle  face,  pretty,"  said 
Ben.  "  And  so  you  think  a  pale  face  prettier  than  a  rosy  one, 
do  you,  little  one  ?  I'm  quite  of  your  way  o'  thinking.  Tell  me 
why  you  find  it  so  much  prettier.  ' 

"  I  shall  tell  you  nothing,  till  you  give  me  back  to  Uuthy,  you 
bad,  ugly  man,"  said  the  enraged  Jessy,  vainly  striving  to  l.n  ak 
from  the  powerful  arms  that  held  her  easily  and  closely. 

'•  That  I  shall  not ;  so  make  up  your  mind  to  keep  still,  and 
talk  to  me  quietly." 

"  I  shaVt  keep  still,  I  eha'n't  talk;  I'll  do  nothing  but  kick 
you,  and  slap  you,  and  pull  your  hair,  and  call  you  ugly,  an<l, — 
and, — hate  you  ;  "  retorted  Jessy.  "  And  I  do  haw  you, —  • 
so  strong,  and  so  fierce,  and  such  a  horrible  groat  hideous  giant 
Help  me  to  call  him  names,  and  make  him  feel  he's  ugly  and 
uateful,  Ruthy." 

"  You  little  simpleton;  is  this  your  gratitude,  when  he's  so 
kind  as  to  carry  you,  and  lift  you  comfortably,  and  bear  yon  firm- 
ly and  easily.— much  better  than  I  can,  you  sill..  'said 
Ruth. 


466  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  I  don't  ask  him  t3  carry, — I  don't  want  him  to  carry  mo , 
I  hate  him,  I  detest  him.  Don't  you,  Ruthy  ?  Help  me  to  die* 
like  him,  and  to  make  him  feel  that  we  wish  him  gone  away." 

Ben  suddenly  set  the  child  down  upon  the  ground.  It  ran  ta 
Ruth,  clung  to  her  skirts,  tugged  and  dragged  at  her  arm.  and 
hung  its  whole  weight  about  her,  and  teased  to  be  taken  up 

"  No,  that  you  shall  not,  you  young  tyrant !  "  said  he,  as  he 
caught  her  up  in  his  arms  again,  and  held  her  fast,  while  the 
screaming  and  struggling  re-commenced. 

In  this  fashion  they  arrived  at  the  wheelwright's ;  the  child 
becoming  pacified  so  soon  as  she  was  delivered  over  to  her  father 
— whom,  next  to  Ruth  Field,  she  loved. 

"  If  you're  not  afraid  to  trust  yourself  with  the  ugly  ogre, 
Ruth,  will  you  let  me  walk  back  with  you  ?  "  said  Ben,  diffi- 
dently. 

"  I'll  take  the  ogre's  arm,"  said  Ruth. 

"  The  very  babies  find  out  one's  uugaiu,"  he  said;  "  there's 
something  unfortunate  in  some  men  ;  they  can  please  no  creatures 
they  themselves  like.  Gentle  women,  pretty  innocent  children, 
all  that  their  hearts  are  drawn  to,  find  'em  hateful.  Only 
the  horses,  poor  brutes  !  find  nothing  to  turn  from  in  the  awk- 
ward, ugly  giant." 

"  You  surely  are  not  hurt  at  the  foolish,  ignorant  speech  of  a 
child  ?  "  said  Ruth,  softly. 

"  I'm  not  hurt  with  her,  but  I'm  hurt  to  think  what  she  said's 
true,"  answered  Ben.  "It's  too  plain,  there's  .something  amiss 
about  some  men — they  can't  hope  to  be  even  bearable  to  those 
they'd  lay  down  their  lives  to  please.  But  this  is  complaining, 
cowardly  kind  of  talk ;  not  fit  for  one  who's  all  courage  and  un- 
eomplainingness  herself.  More  shame  for  me,  not  to  take  better 
example  !  But  sometimes,  coming  to  see  true  how  poor  a  fellow 
I  am — what  an  unlucky,  unhappy  dog  I  am,  in  what  I  could  most 
wish  to  be  not  so,  makes  me  feel  desperate,  and  break  out  into 
complaints  that  lower  me  more  and  more.  Forgive  me,  Ruth ! 
I've  often  sworn  to  myself  I'd  never  torment  you.  again  with  such 
irords  as  these,  after  you,  in  your  own  kindly  way,  told  me  how 


THE    IRON    CO'JSIN.  457 

hopeless  and  useless  they  were;  but  I'm  a  fool—a  cowardly  fool 
—and  shall  be  to  the  day  of  my  death,  I  fancy,  in  this  one  mat- 
ter." 

"  In  what  matter,  Ben  ?  »  asked  Ruth,  with  a  softly-fluttcrcd 
look,  very  different  from  her  usual  quietude. 

'  Nay,  don't  be  afraid  ;  I'm  not  going  to  pain  your  kind  lioart 
by  speaking  of  it  any  more,  Ruth,"  he  returned.  "  YouVo  more 
than  once,  in  your  own  feeling,  considerate  way,  let  me  know  I 
mustn't  think  of  it— hope  for  it:  I  must,  at  least,  do  my  1, 
let  you  hear  no  more  of  it.  And,  now,  here  we  arc  at  the  cottage. 
I'll  just  take  Miss  Kate  the  news  about  Mr.  Worthinjrton,  and 
then  I'll  be  off  home." 


CHAPTER   LII. 

THUS  gradually  prepared  to  seo  him  again,  and  perpetually 
schooling  herself  to  meet  him  with  the  cheerful,  unconcerned  air 
which  should  best  conceal  the  profounder  interest  she  had  t:ik.  n 
in  his  recent  state,  Kate  was  enabled  to  meet  Fermor  with  a 
demeanour  that  effectually  confirmed  her  intention,  and  his 
impression. 

She  was  sprightly,  yet  kindly ;  gaily  affectionate,  with  a  tone 
of  playful,  familiar  intimacy;  precisely  the  manner  which  assorted 
with,  and  was  the  exponent  of,  that  feeling  she  had  towards  him, 
besides  the  yet  stronger  one  that  lay  cherished  and  latent  within 
the  secret  recesses  of  her  heart. 

The  beholding  him  again,  the  seeing  him  convalescent,  helped 
to  give  her  ease  and  animation  ;  while,  upon  him,  the  sight  of 
her  good  spirits  had  an  effect  at  once  gladdening  and  depressing. 
He  rejoiced  to  sec  her  well — happy  ;  yet  ho  himself  had  never 
felt  less  happy.  It  gave  him  delight  to  look  upon 
bright,  pleased  face ;  yet,  beneath  all,  there  was  a  MUM  of 
regret,  of  poignant  repining,  which  filled  him  with  dejection  and 
melancholy. 


468  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

He  did  his  best  to  repress  this  mood  and  succeeded  so  fai 
as,  with  his  usual  power  of  preventing  it  from  affecting  his  man- 
ner, to  bear  himself  tranquilly,  and  with  a  certain  responsive 
freedom  and  playfulness  of  speech. 

He  inquired  of  her  school  progress,  of  those  among  her  young 
pupils  in  whom  he  knew  she  took  an  interest,  of  the  advance  ir 
their  vocal  prowess,  of  the  general  improvement  in  their  condi 
tion,  moral  and  mental.  He  knew  she  thought  as  earnestly  of 
education  for  temper  and  character  as  for  intelligence  ;  he  knew 
that  she  was  even  more  anxious  to  make  them  good  than  to  make 
them  clever ;  he  knew  that  she  as  sedulously  watched  indications 
of  character,  and  fostered  germs  of  virtuous  disposition,  as  she 
cultivated  their  faculties,  or  promoted  their  learning. 

While  he  was  there,  lluth  came  into  the  cottage-parlour,  full 
of  some  tidings  she  had  gathered  of  little  Peggy  Benson's  unfor- 
tunate home-position.  Finding  that  Miss  Ireton  and  Mr.  Worth- 
ington  were  upon  the  subject  of  the  school  and  the  school- 
children, she  poured  forth  her  account  to  Kate. 

"  It  seems  the  child  is  really,  unhappy — very  unhappy,"  she 
said.  "  Her  mother  has  married  again,  her  stepfather  is  a 
morose,  brutal  man,  and  little  Peggy,  between  them,  leads  a 
miserable  life.  The  child  is  neglected,  or,  worse  still,  often  re- 
proached or  ill-treated.  Her  loving  remembrance  of  her  dead 
father  makes  her  present  existence  the  more  sad  and  difficult  to 
bear." 

"  And  she  is  a  child  of  so  sensitive  a  nature,  of  so  imagina- 
tive a  temperament,"  said  Kate,  "  that  she  feels  it  with  peculiar 
keenness.  Things  that  would  scarcely  affect  an  ordinary  child, 
touch  such  a  disposition  as  hers  beyond  belief.  I  wish  we  could 
withdraw  her  from  so  unfit  a  home." 

"  They  are  as  anxious  to  get  rid  of  her,  I  hear,  as  she  is  to 
be  away,"  answered  Ruth.  "  She  told  me  just  now,  when  I  was 
cross-questioning  her  before  she  went  home,  that  an  aunt  of 
hers — a  sister  of  her  father's — a  dressmaker  and  milliner,  is 
willing  to  take  Peggy  to  live  with  her  as  an  apprentice,  if  the 
itep-father  would  pay  five  pounds'  fee ;  but  the  man  is  selfish 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  46S 

nid  a  drunkard,  and  refuses  to  spend  so  much  upon  his  wife'? 
worthless  brat,  he  says." 

"  She  would  be  well  off  —  happy  with  her  aunt,  who  ii  a 
sensible,  good  sort  of  woman,  I  know,"  said  Kate,  "  and  would 
treat  the  child  kindly,  and  teach  her  her  own  business  all  in  good 
time.  Poor  Peggy  !  I  wish  it  could  be  managed  for  her. 
Ruth,  you  are  going  out  ;  will  you  call  upon  Peggy's  aunt,  and 
try  what  can  be  done?  Yet  the  poor  milliner  is  herself  not  too 
rich,  and  has  children  of  her  own  to  support,"  she  added,  a* 
Ruth  was  leaving  the  room;  "I  fear  it  cannot  be.  And  five 
pounds  would  do  this  good  —  would  take  poor  little  Peg  out  of 
her  unhappy  home,  and  place  her  in  a  comfortable  one  !  How- 
ever, I  have  no  five-pound  notes,  nor  even  one-pound  notes,  to 
dispose  of,  and  so,  I  fear,  it  is  useless  thinking  any  more  of 
Peggy's  chance." 

"  You  forget  that  if  you  have  no  five-pound  notes,  Kate,  I 
have  plenty,"  said  Fermor,  who  had  been  turning  over  the 
leaves  of  a  book  while  Ruth  and  she  had  been  speaking 
together. 

"  True,  I  had  forgotten,"  she  said,  "  or,  perhaps,  I  should  not 
have  uttered  what  I  did  before  you.  I  should  hardly  have  men- 
tioned my  lack  of  notes,  had  I  remembered  how  you  aboun>l  in 


"  Why  will  you  not  believe  it  is  the  same  thing  ?  "  he  said. 
''  Why  will  you  never  let  me  have  the  pleasure  of  helping  you, 
in  what  money  may  help  ?  " 

"  Come,"  she  replied,  smilingly,  "you  shall  not  say  I  nerei 
do.  Give  me  this  five  pound  note.  I  aak  it  in  Peggy's  name  ; 
to  effect  good  for  one  who  —  in  her  genuine,  innocent,  childish 
Tvav  —  has  a  most  loving  liking  for  you." 

"  Kate,  you  have  given  me  great  happiness,"  said  Fermor,  i-i 
his  deep,  expressive  voice. 

He  took  forth  his  pocket  book  as  he  spoke.  Kate  wa> 
conscious  of  a  certain  disappointed  feeling  upon  seeing  it  ;  bat 
the  next  moment  her  feeling  changed  to  an  inexpressible  sema- 
tion  of  content,  as  he  drew  from  one  of  the  folds  the  old  "  gran 


170  THE    IRON    COUSIW. 

brown  "  purse,  tattered,  and  too  worn  for  use,  but  still  wrapped 
round  money  set  apart  for  beneficent  purposes.  "  You  know  this 
is  your  own,  Kate,"  he  said ;  "  only  use  it  as  such,  if  you  would 
make  it  yield  me  pleasure." 

"  I  may  one  day  make  so  large  a  demand  upon  it  as  shall 
startle  you,  cousin  mine,"  she  returned.  "  I  have  a  project  float- 
ing in  niy  brain,  which  would  take  some  few  hundreds  to  effect. 
It  is  still  in  the  clouds  as  yet ;  but  if  my  hope  be  crowned  by  the 
event — it  has  for  its  object  the  dowering  so  excellent  a  girl,  that 
I  know  you  would  think  the  sum  well  bestowed,  though  it  be  a 
large  one  to  give." 

"  I  will  not  say,  the  larger  the  better ;  I  will  only  say,  what- 
ever the  sum — be  it  much  or  little — which  will  secure  the  fulfil- 
ment of  any  wish  of  yours,  Kate,  it  shall  be  gladly  forthcoming 
whenever  you  claim  it.  Make  me  your  banker-cousin." 

"  Make  a  goodly  iron  safe  of  my  Iron  Cousin,  and  draw  from 
it  whatever  hoards  I  may  require  for  use.  Truly,  this  is  treat- 
ing him  with  scant  ceremony." 

"  Ceremony  would  be  all  that  needed  to  mar  our  intercourse, 
Kate,  and  render  it  wholly  unlike  what  it  has  ever  been.  The 
absence  of  ceremony  is  what  has  always  served  to  palliate  its 
roughness,  the  licence  of  familiarity  making  up  for  freedom  of 
usage.  Without  ceremony,  therefore — without  scruple — apply 
to  your  banker-cousin  for  any  sums  you  need.  Your  notes  of 
hand  shall  not  only  be  duly  honoured,  but  will  be  received  and 
esteemed  as  honours,  all  honouringly.  He  engages  to  honour 
your  cheques,  if  you  promise  to  honour  him  with  them." 

"  Proffered  with  so  frank  and  cordial  a  generosity,  the  con- 
tents of  my  iron  safe  cannot  but  be  accepted.  I  shall  certainly 
have  recourse  to  it,  whenever  I  feel  that  the  objects  I  have  in 
view  are  such  as  would  have  your  wish  as  well  as  mine  for  their 
prosperous  issue." 

"  But  all  your  demands  have  tlie  wants  of  others  for  their  ob- 
ject. If  you  would  really  gratify  me,  Kate,  ask  something  for 
yourself;  something  that  you  would  like." 

"  I  like  what  I  have  already  asked  money  of  you  for.     I  es- 


THE    IKON    COi  47| 

pecially  enjoy  the  idea  of  Peggy's  being  established  happily ,  and 
I  should  even  still  more  rejoice  in  the  accomplishment  of  my  oth- 
er view." 

"But  what  I  mean  is,  that  I  should  like  you  to  tell  .m  ,,f 
something  which  should  procure  you  some  peculiar  gratifiV 
something  which  should  interest,  please  yon,— you,  your  owi 
just  with  such  ingenuous  freedom  as  you  would  have  told  your  be- 
loved uncle  of  anything  his  Kate  desired.     Give  me— graut  me 
this  delight;  I  cannot  say  what  delight  it  would  be  to  me,  to  feel 
that  you  treated  your  cousin  with  no  less  confidence  and  unreserve 
of  request,  than  you  did  him  you  loved  as  your  true  and  disin- 
terested friend, — your  dearest  friend  upon  earth." 

"  Well,  then,  shall  I  tell  you  something  in  which  I  am  indeed 
most  interested — upon  which  my  heart  is  set  ?  "  she  returned. 

"  Tell  me,  Kate,"  were  the  three  words  for  which  Fermor 
found  voice. 

"  I  do  not  think  you  are  looking  well — your  fever  has  left  you 
thin  and  pale."  Kate  found  herself  faltering;  and  she  rallied 
into  a  lighter  tone.  "  The  boon  I  have  to  ask  at  your  hands,  as 
mi  especial  favour  to  myself  is,  that  you  would  seek  health  in 
change  of  air.  I  cannot  have  my  best,  my  kindest  friend,  remain 
ill.  I  think  if  you  were  to  try  a  month  at  the  sea-aide,  you  would 
greatly  benefit  by  it.  It  would  brace  you — strengthen  you — help 
you  to  throw  off  that  lingering  weakness  and  depression,  which  ait 
unnaturally  upon  the  iron  frame." 

"  You  are  anxious  for  my  health  ?  " 

•'  As  a  Christian  should  be,"  smiled  Kate.  "  I  don't  like  to 
see  a  fellow-creature  drooping  for  want  of  fresh  air,  and  not  advise 
him  to  go  seek  it." 

"  'A  fellow-creature ! '     But  I  thought,  Kate,  you  did  no' 
vlvk-c  yourself?" 

"  Oh,  I'm  no  rule  for  anybody,  following  no  rule  rayaelf. 
But  the  Iron  Cousin  is  always  guided  by  right  and  reason,  there* 
fore 

"  Therefore  he  must  go  to  the  sea-side,  whether  be  will  or  no! 
Wln-tlirr  In.-  \\i>h  it  or  no?" 


472  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  To  be  sure.  Most  things  right  and  reasonable  are  contrary 
to  will  and  inclination.  Do  what  you  ought;  and  go,  cousin 
mine." 

" '  Do  what  I  ought,  and  go  ! ' "  mused  Fermor  Worthington, 
as  he  rode  homeward.  "  Yes,  I  ought,  and  must.  Less  than  ever 
can  I  master  my  own  feelings ;  less  than  ever  can  I  see  her,  and 
control  my  rebellious  emotions,  repress  my  unconquerable  yearn 
ing  that  it  were  not  forbidden  me  to  wish,  to  hope.  She  herseli 
begins  to  perceive  that  I  ought  to  leave  her,  and  sends  me  from 
her ;  gently,  playfully,  delicately,  that  I  may  not  be  hurt  or  of- 
fended. But  still,  decisively,  that  I  may  understand  the  necessi- 
ty there  is  for  ceasing  to  remain  near  her.  Yes,  go  I  ought  and 
must ;  since  there  is  no  staying,  without  wreck  of  faith  and  hon- 
our." 

In  deep  unhappiness,  with  a  sense  of  misery  more  profound 
than  any  he  had  yet  experienced,  with  even  a  despairing  feeling, 
Fermor  prepared  to  quit  his  home,  and  repair  whither  Kate  had 
suggested.  He  little  dreamed  it  was  that  she  herself  might  also 
gather  strength  and  bracing  from  the  temporary  separation.  That 
she  might  gain  fresh  fortitude  and  composure,  to  bear  his  presence 
without  self-betrayal;  and  that  while  he  drew  health  of  frame 
from  the  sea  breezes,  she  might  derive  vigour  of  moral  courage 
from  absence,  restraint,  and  denial.  To  fast  from  expecting  or 
beholding  him  ;  to  starve  her  senses  from  their  delight  in  seeing 
and  hearing  him ;  to  teach  herself  patience,  and  discipline  herself 
into  dispassionate  coolness,  was  her  aim,  in  proposing  this  separa- 
tion, no  less  than  anxiety  for  his  complete  recovery.  She  believed 
that  when  she  should  see  him  restored  from  that  languor  of  illness 
which  involuntarily  made  so  powerful  an  appeal  to  her  tenderness, 
she  would  be  better  able  to  maintain  her  indifference  of  beha- 
viour, as  well  as  guard  her  feelings  from  a  too  fond  interest  in  hi  a 
looks  and  air.  She  was  extremely  desirous  that  a  period  should 
elapse,  which  might  allow  her  to  recover  from  the  effect  of  having 
seen  him  as  she  had — fevered,  unconscious,  scarcely  living.  She 
feared  lest  some  inadvertent  word,  some  casual  expression,  might 
betray  her  having  then  beheld  him  ;  and,  upon  all  accounts,  she 


TIII:  IRON  cousm.  47S 

believed  she  Lad  reason  to  rejoice  that  Permor  was  gone  away  for 
a  time. 

But  her  old  tedium  and  blank  of  existence  returned  upon  her 
Again  she  felt  the  dreariness,  and  aching  sense  of  loss,  and  lone- 
ness,  and  forlorn  lack  of  sympathy.  She  bore  np  nobly  against 
it ;  she  roused  all  the  spirited  energy  of  her  nature,  to  prevent 
its  overwhelming  her ;  but  there  were  times  when  it  beset  her 
severely,  and  threatened  to  destroy  courage,  comfort,  happiness. 

From  her  active  zeal  in  the  discharge  of  her  school  duties, 
from  her  unfailing  attention  to  her  household  occupations,  from 
her  kindly  care  of  her  old  nurse,  from  her  warmth  of  friendship 
:ii;.l  i  steem  for  Ruth  Field,  from  the  interest  she  took  in  Ben's 
modest  faithful  attachment,  from  her  concern  for  timid  Lucy 
Chalkby,  from  all  her  unselfish  sources  of  thought  and  employment, 
Kate  Ireton  derived  best  support.  These  supplied  her  with  whole- 
some invigoration,  when,  had  she  supinely  yielded  to  egotistical 
reflections,  and  indulged  in  morbid  brooding,  she  might  hare  sunk 
into  useless  apathy  and  feeble  misery.  She  many  times  congratu- 
lated  herself,  that  fate  had  necessitated  occupation  for  her,  which, 
with  its  stringent  daily  summons,  imposed  salutary  exertion,  and 
demanded  healthy  effort;  and  soon  after  an  incident  oc< 
which  roused  both  interest  and  solicitude.' 


One  Sunday  evening  Ruth  Field  had  taken  little  Jessy  Bligfa 
out  for  a  ramble  to  the  river-side  walk.  It  was  a  pretty  tree-em- 
bowcred  spot,  with  a  wooded  slope  on  one  side  of  the  path,  shelv- 
ing down  to  the  brink  of  the  stream,  while  on  the  other,  a  turf 
bank,  covered  with  wild  flowers,  brambles,  and  nut-boughs,  formed 
a  pleasant  seat  for  those  who  chose  to  sit  and  rest. 

Although  on  a  week-day  this  place  was  very  sequestered,  yet 
on  Sundays  and  holidays  it  was  a  favu.iritc  resort  of  the  village 
la.N  and  lasses.  In  spring,  it  afforded  cowslips,  violets  and  prim- 
roses;  in  Mackl.crry  and  nutting  season,  it  yielded  abundant 
fruit.  Hen-  Until  could  .sit  and  enjoy  her  book,  while  her  restless, 
active  young  companion  might  play  about  to  her  heart's  content 


174  THE    IKON    COUSIN. 

The  child  Lad  collected  a  lap-full  of  rose-campious,  and  stow 
of  fox-gloves,  white  and  purple,  with  which  she  was  coaxing  Ruth 
to  make  Floral  crown,  sceptre,  and  regalia,  for  her  little  queen- 
ship's  wear. 

"  String  the  ragged-robbins  into  a  necklace  for  me,  Buthy ! 
And  twist  me  a  garland  of  the  purple  fox-gloves ;  and  this  lily- 
white  long  one  shall  be  my  fairy-queen  wand,"  she  said.  "  Oh  ! 
do  lay  by  that  tiresome  book,  and  attend  to  me  !  " 

Ruth  gave  way  to  the  young  exacter,  put  away  the  volume,  and 
began  weaving  the  desired  paraphernalia.  When  she  had  finish- 
ed, and  was  decking  Jessy  out  in  the  various  ornaments,  sorno 
fancied  intention  that  she  was  going  to  take  them  off  again,  caused 
the  child  to  spring  away  from  beneath  "her  hands,  and  scamper  off 
at  full  speed. 

In  sudden  alarm  Ruth  started  up,  calling  to  her  to  stop.  "Jes- 
sy !  Jessy  !  the  river  !  Not  that  way !  if  you  run  on  that  way, 
you'll  come  to  the  edge  and  tumble  in  !  Keep  the  path  !  keep  the 
path  1 » 

But  the  heedless  little  creature  held  on  its  mad-cap  course, 
only  hearing  in  Ruth's  call  a  desire  to  check  flight,  and  to  over- 
take it. 

A  moment  more,  and  there  was  a  splash,  a  fall,  and  the  child 
was  out  of  sight.  It  had  dropped  headlong  into  the  stream. 

Ruth  shrieked  wildly  for  help,  as  she  flew  to  the  river's 
brink. 

Some  one  dashed  past  her,  and  plunged  in. 

The  next  thing  Ruth  Field  saw,  was  Ben  Dimble  struggling 
in  the  water,  endeavouring  to  sustain  the  child  with  one  arm,  while 
with  the  other  he  seized  an  over-hanging  bough  that  depended  from 
the  bank  into  the  stream. 

fl  Ruth,"  he  said,  "  you  can  save  her,  if  you  seize  her  firmly. 
Lean  cautiously  over,  keeping  hold  of  the  strongest  part  of  the 
branch.  Balance  yourself  well,  and  don't  let  go  for  your  life.  Then 
grasp  her  skirts,  close,  close  1 " 

"  But  you  !  you  !  "  she  exclaimed,  with  her  eyes  fixed  upon 
Ben,  as  she  remembered  that  he  could  not  swim,  and  that  her 
weight  might  break  the  bough  which  was  his  only  stay. 


TI1K    IRjON    COUSIN.  475 

"  No  matter  —  for  you,  for  your  sake—  it  is  no  matter.  Seize 
the  child  firmly,  and  save  hcrl  " 

Ruth's  extended  hand  trembled  with  desire  to  give  its  aid  to 
him  she  seemed  to  see  sinking  before  her  eyes'  but  muttering, 
"  It  is  my  duty.  She  was  confided  to  my  care,"  she  clutched  at 
Jessy's  dress,  and  with  what  remaining  strength  she  had,  dragged 
her  to  the  brink.  Then  there  came  a  crash,  a  confusion,  and  hur- 
ry ;  a  mist  and  darkness  swam  before  her  eyes  ;  a  noise,  as  of 
many  waters,  rushed  through  her  ears;  her  limbs  failed  ;  her  senses 
reeled,  forsook  her  ;  and  she  fell  back  upon  the  bank,  exhausted. 

By  this  time,  many  people  had  hurried  to  the  spot,  when,  as 
the  branch  snapped  beneath  the  effect  of  the  heavy  lading  from 
which  it  was  abruptly  released,  and  Ben  was  sinking  rapidly,  a 
young  man  darted  from  the  crowd,  leaped  in,  and  dragged  him  to 


The  wheelwright,  Ilk-hard  Bligb,  now  came  up,  and  hearing 
what  had  chanced,  caught  his  child  in  his  arms,  where  she  soon 
returned  to  life  and  consciousness:  but  Ruth  Field  still  remained 
in  a  strong  swoon. 

The  neighbours  crowded  busily  round,  proffering  help  ;  some 
of  them  attending  to  Ben,  and  seeking  to  restore  animation  ;  while 
others  were  shaking  hands  with  Miles  Oatland,  and  congratula- 
ting him  on  having  saved  a  man's  life  ;  and  yet  others  were  ex- 
claiming with  looks  of  pity,  "  The  poor  lame  body  has  fainted  !  ' 

"  It's  the  school-teacher  ;  the  sub-monitress,"  said  one. 

"  Bear  a  hand,  and  let  us  carry  her  home,"  said  another. 

They  bore  her  gently  to  the  cottage,  where  Kate  Ircton,  with 
grief  and  dismay,  received  the  senseless  form  of  Ruth  Field  into 
her  arras,  after  having  parted  with  her  but  an  hour  ago  in  health 
and  life." 

Long  she  watched  by  her  side,  with   no  answering  token  of 
cniiseiousness;  and  when  at  length   llutli  njien   livreves.it  w»« 
with  a  vacant  look.     She  spoke  wandcringly,  and  clutelied    m  r 
vou>lv  with  her  hand  the  while. 

"I  have  her  fast  —  fast.  But  him!  him!  He  is  sinking  I 
Oh,  for  another  hand  !  If  I  mi-lit  but  help  him  !  For  mo—  for 


176  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

me,  be  is  lost !  I  am  his  murderer  !  I  was  always  bis  bane,  hit 
misery  !  I  made  him  unhappy,  now  I  cause  his  death  1  " 

She  shuddered,  and  a  strong  convulsion  shook  her  frame. 
Then  her  feet  sharply  quivered,  while  the  rest  of  her  body  lay 
stiff  and  motionless.  Kate  bent  over  her,  whispering  quiet,  sooth- 
ing words. 

"  He  is  saved,  dear  Ruth  !     He  is  safe,  quite  safe  !  " 

"  Safe  ?  "  she  exclaimed.  "  It  cannot  be  !  I  saw  him  disap- 
pear when  the  bough  broke.  I  saw  the  waters  close  above  his 
head.  That  was  the  last  thing  I  saw,  as  I  dropped." 

The  sharp,  quivering  shudder  passed  over  her  again,  from  head 
to  foot. 

"  He  sank,  but  he  was  rescued,"  whispered  Kate.  "  Brave 
Miles  Oatland,  the  good  swimmer,  the  strong  manly  arm  and 
heart,  dashed  in  to  his  succour,  and  saved  him.  Ben  is  safe — 
well !  Be  well  too,  dear  Ruth,  for  his  sake — for  mine.  Comfort 
your  heart  with  the  thought  that  he  is  safe ;  and  keep  still,  and 
at  peace,  while  you  get  strength  and  safety  yourself." 

And  Ruth  Field  could  now  keep  still,  and  feel  at  peace,  with 
this  thought  to  muse  upon.  For  very  long  she  lay  wrapped  in  a 
content  so  profound,  that  she  semed  to  sleep.  But  her  spirit  was 
awake  to  the  full  joy  of  finding  that  her  faithful  lover  had  not 
fallen  a  sacrifice  to  his  honest  generous  devotion  ;  and  she  was 
employing  her  whole  soul  in  devout  thanks  for  his  preservation. 


CHAPTER  LTII. 

NEXT  day,  Ruth  Field  was  so  well  recovered  as  to  be  able  to  ful- 
fill her  school  duties  during  the  morning.  In  the  afternoon,  how- 
ever, she  asked  Kate  Ireton  if  she  thought  she  could  manage  to 
let  her  absent  herself  during  the  rest  of  the  lessons,  and  dispense 

her  assistance. 
"  I  would   not  ask   this,  monitrcss,"  she   said  in   her   usual 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  477 

sedate,  simple  way,  •'  but  that  I  have  a  duty  to  perform,  which  I 
think  should  not  be  deferred." 

"  And  if  it  be  the  duty  that  I  guess,"  said  Kate,  amilinglj, 
'*  all  I  have  to  ask  of  you,  Ruthy,  is  not  to  make  it  too  much  of  a 
dry  duty,  but  make  it  a  pleasant  one — as  pleasant  as  you  can — 
do  you  hear  ?  Let  it  be  performed  as  satisfactorily  and  as 
thoroughly  as  it  ought  to  be.  Do  you  mind,  do  you  understand, 
Ruthy  ?"  she  added,  with  a  smiling  bat  affectionate  earnestness, 
as  she  looked  straight  into  Ruth  Field's  soft  brown  eyes,  which 
were  lowered  at  first,  but  afterwards  were  lifted  towards  hen 
wit  ii  as  open  an  expression  as  her  own,  fall  of  a  sweet  and  bentle 
moaning. 

"  Yes,  I  understand,"  said  Ruth ;  "  and  I  thank  you  for  sig- 
nifying how  completely  you  understand  me,  in  your  own  delicate, 
kindly  wa 

Ruth  Field  took  the  path  across  the  meadows,  leading  in  the 
direction  of  Huntley  Lodge.  She  had  gone  more  than  half  the 
distance,  when  she  was  met  by  Ben  Dimble, 

"  This  is  too  far  for  yon  to  walk,  Ruth,"  be  said,  as  he  eager- 
ly advanced  towards  her.  '•  You  most  be  tired  ?  You  look  flush* 
ed.  Rest  on  this  seat. 

He  assisted  her  to  the  low  step  of  a  stile  near,  and  stood  by 
her. 

••  What  could  bring  you  out  so  far — alone,  too— no  one  to  give 
you  an  arm  ?  " 

"  I  was  coming  to  you,  Ben,"  she  said. 

"  To  me  1  " 

"  To  you ;  I  could  not  rest  until  I  thanked  you  for  risking 
your  life  to  save  my  little  Jessy.  She  is  a  dear  pretty  creature, 
for  all  her  unruliness ;  and  I  never  should  hav«  forgiven  myself, 
had  any  harm  happened  to  her.  She  was  committed  to  my  care. 
I  cannot  think  you  too  heartily  or  too  gratefully,  Ben— d«»r  Ben." 

"  You  thank  me  a  thousand  times  more  than  I  deserve,  in  that 
one  word,  Ruth,"  he  said.  "  What  I  did  don't  ought  to  have 
thanks  by  rights,  since  I  couldn't  help  doing  it  If  I'd  had  the 
hap  to  <!,.  somethinir  that  really  deferred  thanking,  that  l.ttU 


478  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

word  from  you — to  me,  Ruth — would  pay  it  over  and  over.  Evet 
Bimply,  straightforwardly  said  as  'tis,  it's  worth  much  to  me 
Just  spoke  out  of  the  kind  feeling  of  your  grateful  heart,  lluth, 
which  bids  you  say  as  much  as  you  can  to  show  your  thankful 
ness  ;  even  so  far,  it's  precious  to  me." 

"  Believe  that  it  is  spoken  in  its  fullest  meaning,  Ben,"  said 
lluth,  softly.  "  You  must  always  be  '  dear  '  to  me,  for  having 
saved  my  little  favourite." 

"  I  only  helped  to  save  her ;  you  did  as  much,  or  more,  than 
I  did  ;  if  you  hadn't  drawn  her  from  the  water,  when  I  just  bore 
her  up,  she  must  ha'  been  lost.  Richard  Bligh  so  well  knows 
this,  that  he  vows  he'll  offer  himself,  and  all  he  has,  if  you'll  only 
have  him,  and  be  a  mother  to  his  motherless  child,  who  dotos  on 
you,  and  whose  life  you've  saved." 

"  I  marry  Richard  Bligh  !  Not  to  save  my  own  life  !  "  ex- 
claimed Ruth,  with  more  vehemence  than  her  wonted  calm  quie- 
tude betokened  her  capable  of. 

"  He's  rich;  he'd  maintain  you  like  a  lady,  as  you  ought  to 
be,  Ruth,"  said  Ben,  moved  to  persist,  he  hardly  knew  why. 

"  I  care  not  for  him  ;  I  do  not  love  him,"  she  said. 

"  You  love  another  ?"  said  Ben. 

Ruth's  eyes  fell. 

"  I  understand  ;  you  still  think  of  that " 

"  Do  not  believe  me  capable  of  so  mean,  so  degrading  a  weak- 
ness !"  she  exclaimed.  ';  His  image  has  long  been  effaced  by  hia 
own  base  conduct." 

"  But  you  love  ?     Oh,  this  is  worse  ;  you  can  love  again,  yet 

not 1  see  !  Miles   Oatland  !     He's  a  fine  manly  fellow ;   and 

you Oh,  Ruth  !  " 

Ben  covered  his  face  with  hip  hands.  Ruth  got  up,  and  quietly 
displaced  them.  "  Ben,  look  at  me  !  Is  there  no  one  else,  think 
you  ?  Is  there  no  one  else,  whose  manly  courage,  and  long,  true 
hearted  fidelity,  and  tried  patience  and  unselfishness,  have  at  last 
won  their  way  to  my  love.  Have  won  it — secured  it — made  it 
his  own  for  ever  ?  " 

He  looked  incredulously  in  her  face — in  her  eyes.  He  read 
tiie  truth  there. 


THE   IRON    COUSIN  479 

He  snatched  her  in  his  arms,  with  wild,  vehement  kissea. 
"  llutli  !  Rutli  1  I  can't  believe  my  own  good  fortune  !  I'm 
obliged  to  prove  to  myself  it's  real." 

'•You  take  a  good  method,"  she  said,  with  her  soft  smile,  and 
soft  colour.  "  Are  you  not  yet  convinced  ?  "  For  Bon  was  still 
-.Mtiiering  proof,  after  his  own  peculiar  fashion. 

"  Ruth  !  dear,  dear  Ruth  !  Oh,  I  thank  God  !  I  thank  God, 
;"> .r  a  happiness  I  never  thought  would  be  mine." 

"  You  were  indeed  hard  to  lead  into  belief,"  she  said.  "  I 
had  to  speak  very  plainly,  Ben,  before  I  could  make  you  under- 
stand that  my  own  eyes  were  opened  to  the  truth  of  what  I  fult 
for  you." 

"You'd  so  plain  told  me  before,  that  you  had  no  lore  to  giro 
me,  Ruth.  Nothing  but  your  own  words  now,  could  do  away 
what  they'd  made  me  believe  then.  I  feared  it  was  true— that 
you  did  not,  and  that  you  never  could  love  me." 

"  I  knew  it  not  myself,  that  I  should  ever  so  thoroughly  loam 
to  look  back  upon  what  I  then  felt,  as  a  mistake  ;  and  to  compre- 
hend that  what  I  have  since  felt,  was,  in  truth,  love, — love  found- 
ed upon  esteem,  respect,  and  gratitude." 

" '  Gratitude,'  Ruth  ?      That's  out  o'  the  question,"  said  Ben. 

"  Gratitude,"  repeated  Ruth.  "  What  should  so  truly  awaken 
gratitude,  as  constancy,  patience,  forbearance,  and  unshaken 
affection  through  all.  Did  you  not  love  me  constantly,  through 
loss  of  health,  loss  of  good  looks,  loss  of  self-respect  9  Did  you 
not  patiently  give  me  time  to  recall  my  wandering  fancy,  to 
repair  my  false  judgment,  to  redeem  my  wasted  preference  ?  Did 
you  not  deal  forbearingly  by  my  erring  inclinations,  and  wait 
with  faith  and  hope  until  they  should  revert  to  ray  own  power, 
for  fresh  bestowal,  and  justcr  dedication  ?  Assuredly,  Ben,  if 
t-vcr  woman  had  cause  for  deep  gratitude  towards  generous  lover, 
it  is  your  Ruth.  I  know  not  how  I  may  ever  sufficiently  prove 
that  I  fed  the  gratitude  I  cannot  express." 

"  Shall  I  tell  you  how  you  may  do  both,  ttle  word, 

Ruth  ?     Call  me  again  '  d«-ar '  Ben,  as  you  did  j<nt  now  ;  n- 
me  see  in  your  eyes  that  you  m<  IB  1  it.  what   I  couldn't 


480  THE    IKON    COUSIN. 

«hen — like  a  dull   blockhead  as   I  was — understand   or  believe 
you  did." 

The  "  dear  Ben  "  was  uttered  in  a  style  perfectly  satisfactory 
to  utterer  and  hearer ;  and  then  Ruth  Field  said  something  of 
the  necessity  of  her  returning  home. 

"  I'll  se'e  you  back,"  replied  Ben.  "  I'm  my  own  master  for 
the  rest  of  the  evening.  I  got  leave  to  come  out  for  a  few  hours. 
Feeling  restless,  and  not  able  to  stay  indoors,  I  asked  it ;  little 
thinking  who  I  should  meet  abroad." 

"  One  who  has  deprived  you  of  your  mastership  and  proprie- 
torship ;  one  who  henceforth  calls  you  hers,1'  smiled  Ruth 
Field. 

"  That's  nothing  new,"  he  answered.  "  I've  long  been  more 
yours  than  my  own,  Ruth.  But  by  this  evening's  meeting,  I  have 
gained  you  to  be  mine  ;  and  that  makes  me  a  prouder  propri'tor 
than  if  I  owned  all  England.  At  that  moment,  when  I  thought 
you  cared  for  Miles  Oatland,  I'd  ha'  willingly  died  rather  than 
owed  my  life  to  him  ;  now,  I  bless  his  hand  that  saved  it  for  me, 
to  give  to  you,  in  return  for  the  life,  the  love,  the  joy  you've 
given  me." 

"  Set  your  heart  at  rest,  with  regard  to  Miles  Oatland.  If 
Ruth  Field  had  cared  for  him  ever  so  well,  he  would  have  cared 
nothing  for  her,  seeing  that  his  whole  world  is  contained  in  pret- 
ty, modest  Lucy  Chalkby.  Do  you  know,  Ben,  that  when  you 
found  out  how  pretty'she  was  in  tears,  and  how  modestly  appeal- 
ing her  sorrow  made  her  to  your  kindly  fancy,  your  Ruth's  fears 
took  alarm,  and  she  dreaded  lest  you  might  find  Lucy's  prettiness 
and  modesty  more  attractive  than  Ruth's  white,  hollow  cheeks, 
and  limping  stoop." 

"  I  shan't  tell  you  how  dear  the  pale  face  and  the  feeble  step 
have  been  to  me,  lest  you  try  and  keep  'em  from  turning  into  the 
rosier  cheek  and  firmer  foot,  which  have  lately  been  Ruth's  again," 
said  Ben.  "  You've  looked  almost  as  bright,  and  walked  almost 
as  strong  this  evening,  as  you  used,  when  we  first  came  a-nutting 
in  these  very  meadows,  children  together." 


THE    IRON    COU8U*.  43 1 

"  That  is  because  I  am  as  light  of  heart  this  evening  as  I  was 

then,"  said  Ruth  ;  "  and  still  more  happy,  Ben  " 


The  adventure  by  the  river-side  had  caused  a  great  sensation 
in  the  village.  Every  mouth  was  full  of  Ruth  Field  and  Ben 
Dimble's  courageous  conduct  in  saving  Jessy  Bligh ;  while  Miles 
Oatland's  gallant  rescue  of  Ben,  was  considered  in  the  light  of  a 
glorious  achievement. 

Miles  enjoyed  great  popularity  ;  he  was  good-natured,  mirth- 
ful, social,  and  liberal, — both  of  money  and  of  companionship. 
He  was  a  general  favourite  ;  one  of  those  young  men  of  whom  a 
neighbourhood  is  both  fond  and  proud. 

Kate  Ireton  took  the  opportunity,  when  public  voice  was  loud 
in  admiration,  to  call  upon  Mr.  Chalkby,  and  endeavour  to  win 
his  favour,  and  to  stimulate  his  good  opinion  towards  this  suitor 
of  Lucy's. 

'  Why,  you  see,  Miss, — ma'am, — that  this  young  man  is  all 
very  well — he  has  a  great  deal  of  flashy  reputation — mere  con- 
vivial renown.  But  ma'am,  he  is  not  a  man  of  talent ;  he  has 
no  genius  ;  he's  not  an  intellectual,  or  educated  person,  by  anj 
means.  And  it  has  always  been  my  ambition,  that  a  daughter 
of  mine  should  show  proper  regard  for  talent,  by  allying  herself 
with  no  person  who  has  not  given  evidence  that  he  possesses  more 
than  ordinary  capacity.  Now,  Miles  Oatland  can  sing  a  festive 
song  ;  can  dance  all  night  at  a  wake,  or  an  assiie  ball ;  can  hit  a 
mark  at  an  incredible  number  of  paces;  can  shoot  flying;  can 
row  like  a  Thames  waterman,  or  a  Cantab ;  can  swim  and  dive 
like  a  dab-chick;  and  play  cricket  like  a  Lord's  man :  but  I 
should  like  to  know  what  signs  of  genius  he  has  ever  given." 

•  Why.  really,  Mr.  Chalkby,  it  seems  to  me,  that  it  must  re- 
quire  the  genius  of  an  Admirable  Crichton,  to  do  all  these  things 
even  tolerably;  and  I  understand  Miles  Oatland  do«*  them 
superlatively/'  answered  Kate.  "  /  think  he's  a  very  *up«cwr 
ocrsou,*1  she  added 


482  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  You  think  so,  ma'am  ?  Well,  your  opinion, — an  instruo 
tress  of  youth,  a  highly  educated  and  accomplished  young  woman 
yourself, — has  great  weight  with  me, — very  great  weight ;  and 
any  one  whom  you  may  call  '  a  superior  person,'  has  a  claim  to 
my  consideration, — great  claim.  I  attach  immense  importance 
to  this,  I  assure  you,  ma'am." 

"  To  a  name,"  thought  Kate.  "  My  chancing  to  style  Miles 
Oatland  'a  superior  person,'  has  produced  the  effect." 

"  It  never  struck  me  before,  that  Miles  Oatland  might  be 
called  '  a  superior  person  ; '  but  I  suppose  he  might  now,  eh  ?  " 

"  Undoubtedly,"  said  Kate  ;  "  and  a  hero.  If  ever  man  de- 
served the  name  of  a  hero,  it  is  Miles  Oatland.  His  presence  of 
mind,  his  noble  bravery,  his  admirable  skill  as  a  swimmer, 
enabled  him  to  achieve  the  proud  and  happy  distinction  of  saving 
a  human  life.  Presence  of  mind,  bravery, — to  say  nothing  of 
skill  in  natation, — are  heroic  attributes ;  and  Miles  Oatland  is 
unquestionably  a  hero,  no  less  by  the  testimony  of  his  own  deed, 
than  by  the  unanimous  suffrage  of  his  fellow-villagers." 

"  Really,  it  would  be  no  little  honour,  though,  to  have  a  hero 
for  a  son-in-law,  and  one,  too,  who  is  allowed  to  be  a  '  superior 
person.'  I'll  think  of  it.  And  if  I  can  bring  myself  to  put  up 
.with  an  unintellectual  husband  for  Lucy,  why  it  will  be  a  comfort 
to  me  to  tell  her  so  ;  and  put  an  end  to  those  red  eyes,  and  stifled 
sobs,  and  melancholy,  unhappy  looks,  that  have  made  her  mother 
and  me  miserable  for  the  last  few  weeks.  I'll  think  of  it ;  I'll 
think  of  it." 

u  You  will  be  most  wise  to  do  so,  Mr.  Chalkby,"  said  Kate  ; 
"  and  I  shall  rejoice  to  learn  that  you  have  determined  to  make 
Lucy,  and  her  father  and  mother,  and  her  lover,  all  happy,  by 
one  judicious,  excellent  step  on  your  part." 

As  Kate  Ireton  left  Mr.  Chalkby's  shop,  she  smiled  to  think 
of  the  way  in  which  people  are  led  by  words,  when  they  remain 
unimpressed  by  facts  ;  of  how  frequently  they  will  think  nothing 
of  substantial,  positive  good,  until  it  be  placed  before  them  iu  the 
illusively  brighter  light  of  talk  and  showy  representation.  Sho 
thought  how  often  such  people  judge  of  others,  not  by  intrlnsia 


THE    IRON    CO'itSW.  493 

»erit,  but  by  the  estimation  and  value  in  which  they  are  gener 
ally  held  ;  and  that,  while  true  worth  and  actual  quali6cation  ar« 
either  disregarded  or  little  understood,  the  name  of  possessing 
certain  attributes  suddenly  prevails  to  obtain  due  consideration. 

She  was  pleased  to  think  that  she  had  in  all  probability 
smoothed  the  way  to  securing  for  Lucy  Chalkbyher  father's  con- 
sent  to  a  union  with  her  gallant  lover  ;  but  as  Kate  walked  on, 
a  saddened  feeling  crept  over  her,  that  she  had  much  difficulty  in 
struggling  aeainst.  It  was  at  such  moments  as  these,  that  she 
most  profoundly  felt  the  loss  of  her  uncle ;  of  him  who  had  loved 
her  so  unfailingly,  so  intensely.  She  felt  that  she  now  compre- 
hended Mrs.  Lindon's  words,  how  strong  a  necessity  is  1<> 
the  human  heart.  It  is  its  vital  atmosphere,  its  nutriment,  its 
most  imperative  need. 

To  love,  and  to  be  loved,  form  the  highest  privilege,  as  the 
first  demand,  of  existence.  So  pressing  a  want  are  they,  that 
even  to  love  without  being  loved  in  return,  is  better  than  lack  of 
either.  Kate  felt  this,  as  she  thought  of  her  affection  for  Per- 
nior  Worthington.  Keenly  as  she  shrank  from  the  belief  that  he 
regarded  her  with  nothing  of  the  sentiment  she  entertained  to- 

him,  she  still  knew  she  would  rather  harbour  this  j.;- 
ence  than  be  without  it. 

It  was  a  source  of  strange,  hoarded  joy,  through  all  its  bitt.-r 
ness.  It  exalted  while  it  humbled  her.  It  was  a  possession,  ever 
while  it  made  her  sensible  of  her  own  insufficiency  and  imperfec- 
tion. It  afforded  her  a  point  of  proud  comfort,  in  the  midst  of 
her  deprivation.  She  could  take  pleasure  in  the  thought  of  his 
excellence,  while  she  deplored  her  own  deficiencies.  She  had  • 
secret  glory  in  thinking  of  his  merit,  at  the  moment  she  admitted 
her  own  inadequacy  to  equal  his,  or  to  inspire  him  with  answer* 
ing  regard.  It  was  something  to  treasure  within  her  heart  so 
noble  a  being  as  its  admitted  master.  She  would  rather  love 
unloved,  than  live  without  lore  at  all.  It  was  still  love. — tin 
natural  element  of  the  heart's  life. 

K:it  •  was  passing  the  vicarage,  when  she  remembered  that  «h« 
would  go  and  see  her  little  friend,  Harry  Meadows;  who,  fro» 


484  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

being  her  uncle's  godson,  no  less  than  from  his  own  affectionate 
fondness  for  herself,  was  an  especial  favourite  with  her. 

The  child  soon  established  himself  on  her  knee,  and  assern 
bled  all  his  treasures  to  show  her.  He  had  a  box  in  which  lie 
kept  his  most  prized  possessions,  and  these  were  now  exhibited 
to  his  dear  "  Kaytighton." 

She  took  up  a  pencil-case  that  lay  there  among  the  rest ;  and 
little  Harry  seeing  it  in  her  hands,  exclaimed :  "  Ah  !  yes  j 
would  you  believe  it,  Kaytighton  ?  that's  mine  !  mine  for  always  1 
And  I  owe  it  to  you.  you  darlingest  Kaytighton." 

"  To  me,  Harry  !  " 

"  Yes,  to  you.  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it ;  the  whole  history 
how  it  happened  Mr.  Worthington  came  one  day,  and  I  was 
plaguing  him  to  lend  me  his  pencil,  and  to  make  me  seals,  with 
the  seal  at  the  top ;  and  he  made  me  ever  so  many — oh  !  ever  so 
many.  I've  got  'em  all  in  this  box.  See  here !  Lots  and  lots 
of  jf.  SiJ.'s  I  And  I  asked  him  to  let  me  make  one  for  myself; 
and  he  told  me  I  should  burn  my  fingers ;  but  that  he'd  make  as 
many  for  me  as  I  liked.  And  then  I  told  him  he  was  so  kind,  I 
loved  him  better  than  any  body  in  the  world,  except  one  person. 
'  Mamma  ?  '  he  asked.  '  Oh  !  of  course,  mamma — and  papa ;  1 
love  them  first  of  all ;  but  best,  best.  There  is  one  person  I 
love  best  in  the  whole  world  ! '  '  And  who  may  that  be  ?  '  he 
said.  '  Kaytighton  ! '  I  answered ;  '  I  love  her  even  better  than 
you.  SVhat  makes  you  get  so  red  ?  Are  you  angry  ?  '  '  No  : 
far  from  it,'  he  said.  Then,  after  he  had  stopped  a  little,  he 
weLt  on  :  '  Harry,  should  you  like  to  have  this  pencil  for  your 
own  ?  '  '  What !  for  my  very  own — to  keep  always  ?  Oh,  Mr. 
Worthington,  it  would  be  too,  too  delightful ! '  I  really  could 
hardly  believe  he  meant  it;  but  he  did.  He  said  it  was  for 

the  sake  of   my  favourite   Kaytighton ;    and  he .  gave  it 

to  me." 

Little  Harry  paused  to  take  breath,  after  the  immensity  of 
this  communication,  and  then,  finding  that  Kate  Ireton  did  not 
speak,  he  continued :  "  Well,  I  felt  rather  curious  to  know  why, 
so  I  asked.  '  But  vwhat  made  you  get  so  red,  sir  ?  '  And  he 


THI:  IRON  COUSIN.  485 

answered  :  '  Pleasure — pleasure  that  you  know  how  to  distinguish 
those  who  best  deserve  to  be  best  loved.  Kay  tighten,  as  you 
call  her,  deserves  to  be  better  loved  thau  I ;  she  is  better  than 
I — than  most.'  '  I  thought  you  were  very  good,  sir,'  I  answered. 
'  Papa  tells  us  you  are  a  very  good  gentleman — an  example,  he 
says.  He  said  once,  he'd  be  quite  content  if  his  sons  grew  up  to 
be  such  good  men  as  young  Mr.  Worthington.'  '  But  Kaytighton 
is  :i  fur  higher  example,'  he  then  said.  '  I  am,  perhaps,  not  a 
bad  man,  because  I've  had  few  things  to  cross  and  grieve  me ; 
.she  has  been  a  good  woman  through  great  trial ;  she  has  become 
even  more  good  by  her  own  care  to  make  herself  so.  You  can't 
have  a  nobler  example,  Harry,  than  your  friend  Kaytighton.' 
But  what  makes  you  red,  now,  Kaytighton  ?  '  Pleasure, ' 
too  ?  " 

"Yes;  pleasure  to  think  my  little  Harry  has  so  good  a 
friend  as  Mr.  Worthington  to  teach  him  to  think  wisely  and 
worthily  ;  and  pleasure  to  think  that  you  got  this  nice  pencil 
through  Kaytighton." 

"  The  only  thing  he  made  me  promise  was,  that  I'd  not  at- 
tempt to  make  seals  with  it  myself;  he  said  I  might  amuse  my- 
self by  drawing  with  it  as  much  as  I  liked,  but  I  was  not  to  make 
Hc-al.s  without  some  careful  person  to  help  me,  otherwise  I  should 
burn  my  fingers,  and  get  him  into  a  scrape  with  papa  and  mamma 
for  having  given  me  &  dangerous  toy.  He  said  he'd  believe 
my  word,  if  I  gave  it  him,  that  I  wouldn't  try  to  make  seal/ 
pyselt" 

"  And  you  passed  your  word  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

'-  And  have  kept  it,  of  course  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  ask  papa  for  a  stick  of  sealing-wax,  and  I'll  help  yo« 
to  make  as  many  impressions  as  you  wish." 

And  so  Kaytighton  and  little  Harry  sat  very  happily,  mak- 
ing seals  together,  seriously  and  carefully,  trying  not  to  make 
"  kisses,"  and  blotches,  and  blurs,  and  failures — but  nice,  round, 
even,  neat  imprenions.  And  then  he  displayed  more  content* 


486  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

of  his  treasure-box ;  among  other  things,  some  sheets  of  paper 
on  which  Mr.  Worthington  had  set  him  some  writing-copies;  and 
Kate  Ireton  could  not  help  noticing  that  there  was  a  great  pre 
valence  of  capital  K's  among  the  examples. 

Little  Harry  Meadows  pointed  out  this  circumstance  to  her, 
saying  that  Mr.  Worthington  had  said  it  was  fit  he  should  know 
how  to  make  correctly  the  initial  of  his  friend  Kaytighton'a 
name. 

The  sight  of  that  well-cut  letter — flowingly,  freely,  yet  firmly 
shaped,  in  his  hand-writing — printed  itself  upon  Kate  Ireton's 
imagination.  It  kept  her  company  through  her  dark  way  home ; 
it  illumined  her  path,  it  shed  brightness  upon  her  spirits  ;  it 
hung,  a  star-like  point,  among  the  white  dimity  curtains  of  her 
cottage-bed,  and  formed  a  vivid  constellation,  in  combination  with 
two  other  initial  letters,  upon  which  her  eyes  had  d\velt  during 
the  evening. 

Kate  Ireton's  sleep  that  night  was  very  sweet. 


CHAPTER  LIV. 

LISTLESSLY,  in  pure  indifference  to  any  other  course,  Fermor 
Worthington  lingered  at  the  sea-side.  He  used  to  wander  on 
the  beach  for  hours  together,  endeavouring,  by  ceaseless  exer- 
cise, and  by  constantly  remaining  in  the  open  air,  to  throw  off  a 
portion  of  the  languor  and  oppression  that  clung  to  him.  He 
tried,  by  bodily  exertion,  to  overcome  the  moral  and  mental 
weariness  that  he  felt ;  to  combat  the  indisposition  and  inability 
to  sleep  which  beset  him,  by  a  course  of  hardy,  vigorous  activity, 
and  by- personal  effort,  to  conquer  uneasiness  of  spirit. 

One  day,  after  a  long  ramble,  he  was  seated  at  the  foot  of 
some  rugged  cliffs,  holding  a  book  in  his  hand,  but  with  his  eyes 
fixed  upon  the  undulating  billows,  which  rolled  in  never-ending 
succession,  one  over  the  other,  and  broke  into  perpetual  same 


THE    IEON    COU81H.  487 

ness,  and  vague  aimlcssness,  like  his  own  surging  thought*,  when, 
round  a  point  at  a  little  distance,  he  saw  a  gay  party  of  ladie* 
and  gentlemen,  on  donkey-back,  laughing,  chattering,  and  trifling 
as  they  advanced  along  the  sands,  in  his  direction. 

Fermor  took  no  notice  of  them,  in  hope  that  they  would  past 
on,  doing  the  same  by  him  ;  but  as  they  came  near,  a  shrill,  high- 
pitched,  but  languishing  voice,  exclaimed  :  <:  Dear  mamma,  how 
fortunate  !  There  is  Mr.  Worthington." 

The  next  instant  he  was  surrounded  by  the  party,  who  proved 
to  be  Mr.  and  Mrs.  White,  their  daughter  Alicia,  with  another 
lady  and  gentleman,  whom  they  introduced  as  Mr.  Henry  Smythc, 
and  his  sister,  Miss  Constautia  Smythe,  whose  acquaintance  Miss 
"\\  liito  had  made  at  Baden-Baden,  when  staying  there  with  her 
god-mother,  Lady  Niggle. 

"  We  were  just  looking  out  for  a  nice  place  to  stop  at,  and 
enjoy  our  lunch,"  said  Miss  White.  "  You,  Mr.  Worthington, 
have  determined  our  choice.  The  spot  you  have  selected  must 
be  most  delightful ;  and  we  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  your  com- 
pany, in  addition  to  the  picturesque  beauty  of  this  nook." 

Fermor  had  nothing  for  it,  but  to  bow  and^resign  himself. 

While  the  servants  who  attended  the  party  spread  the  repast, 
Mr.  Henry  Smythe,  by  way  of  conversation,  addressed  Fermor 
with — "  Inecprethibly  thoothing  thight,  thir,  the  thea,  ithn  ; 
at  the  same  time  pointing  to  tho  object  alluded  to,  with  a  little 
cane  he  held,  and  fixing  his  glass  into  his  eye. 

"  Inexpressibly  so,  certainly,  sir,"  replied  Fermor. 

"  It  alwayth  mak'th  me  think  of  Thtoracc'th  thwect  thtrain, 
'  Peatheful  thluinbering  on  the  ocean,'  "  pursued  he. 

"  You  speak  of  the  sea  in  one  of  its  aspects — as  we  behold  it 
on  a  calm  day  like  this,  sir,"  said  Fermor. 

"Egthactly!  Oh,  when  it'th  bluthtcring,  and  bounthing, 
and  kicking  up  a  dutht,  in  boithtcrouth  weather,  then  we're  re- 
minded of  our  old  Homer  thchool  dayth,  ch,  thir  ?  '  Poluph 
thluithboio  Thahththeth,'  you  know  !  Tlu-n,  ifth  not 
but  unthpcakably  thubliine,  of  courthc  ! ' 

"  Unspeakably  so,  indued,  >ir,"  replied  Kormor. 


488  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  But  even  the  sea  can't  be  alwayth  up  to  boiling-point,  you 
thee,  thir.  '  Non  themper  tendit  arcum  Apollo,'  ath  -we  uthed 
to  thay  at  that  deuthed  boring  old  Eaton.  Thometimeth  the 
thteam  goeth  down  with  the  thea,  as  with  uth  all.  For  my  part, 
I  like  motht  thingth  betht  when  they're  thoft,  and  thill,  and 
thweet.  They're  unutterably  nithetht  then,  to  my  tathte." 

"  Unutterably,  without  doubt,"  assented  Fermor. 

"  My  dear  Mitheth  White,"  said  the  young  officer,  moving 
away  from  Fermor  Worthington,  and  round  to  where  Mrs.  White 
sat,  "  I  can  make  nothing  at  all  of  your  friend.  I  tried  to  draw 
him  out,  but  it  wouldn't  do.  There'th  no  getting  any  convertha- 
tion  out  of  thome  perthonth.  Do  what  you  will,  you  can  get 
only  monothyllableth  out  of  'em.  I  thuppothe,  he'th  one  of 
your  thuperior  people — your  thoughtful  people.  They're  al- 
wayth mere  thtockth  and  thoneth — abtholute  dummieth — either 
thtupid  or  thullen." 

"  Oh,  dear,  he's  not  stupid  !  He's  one  of  the  richest  landed 
proprietors  in  our  county  !  "  said  Mrs.  White. 

"  Ith  he  though  ?  Ah,  then,  it  mutht  be  that  he'th  in  the 
thulkth  about  thojuething  or  other.  Perhapth  he'th  thtudying 
how  he  may  get  into  Parliment ;  and  that  maketh  him  dull,  and 
croth-grained,  and  cantankerouth,  in  prothpect." 

"  But  Alicia  is  now  speaking  to  him ;  and  if  any  one  can 
mollify  his  thoughtful  mood,  she  will,"  replied  Mrs.  White. 

"  Unquethtionably ;  her  thweetneth  would  thoften  a  polar 
bear  !  "  returned  Mr.  Henry  Smythe. 

"  What  a  sad  break-up  that  was  at  Heathcote ! "  Alicia 
White  was  saying  to  Fermor.  "  The  poor,  dear  old  'Squire  ! 
And  poor,  dear  Kate  !  I  really  pitied  her,  poor  thing  !  To  such 
a  fiery  temper  as  hers,  it  must  have  been  a  terrible  blow,  her 
loss  of  rank  and  station." 

"  To  say  nothing  of  the  loss  of  her  uncle,"  said  Fermor  drily. 

"  To  be  sure  !  The  way  in  which  he  humoured  her  whims 
was  perfectly  absurd,  you  know  ;  she  must  have  missed  such 
doting  indulgence  as  his,  wretchedly.  And  then,  to  one  of  her 
proud  disposition,  it  must  have  been  gall  and  wormwood,  to  give 


THi;    IRON    COUSIN. 

np  Reathcote  Hall,  and  to  exchange  its  luxury  and  case  for  * 
poor  cottage,  the  drudgery  of  teaching,  and  pinched  means.  I 
quite  pitied  her,  poor  creature ! " 

"  You  were  always  compassionate,"  said  Formor. 

"  Oh  !  I've  no  notion  of  being  otherwise.  I  think  it's  very 
hard  and  unfeeling  to  refuse  pity  towards  any  one  who  has  fallen 
into  reverses.  They  can't  help  it,  you  know.  It's  no  fault  of 
theirs.  Still  she  might  have  been  a  little  more  humble  in  her 
altered  condition.  Mamma  wrote  her  a  very  kind,  condoling 
letter  at  the  time,  full  of  commiseration  ;  telling  her  that  she 
inidit  always  depend  on  her  countenance  and  patronage,  in  case 
she  thought  of  attempting  to  obtain  a  situation  as  governess,  or 
anything  of  that  kiud  ;  but,  would  you  believe  it  ?  she  wrote  back 
60  grandly,  holding  herself  so  high  and  mighty,  that  we  took  no 
more  notice  of  her  after  that." 

"  Of  course  you  did  not,"  said  Fcrnior. 

"  I  never  quite  liked  her,  even  when  she  was  at  her  beat,  at 
Hi-athcote  Hall,"  said  Miss  White.  "  She  had  an  oddity  about 
her — a  caprice  and  wilfulness  of  temper,  quite  disagreeable. 
She  would  be  all  arrogance  and  loftiness,  one  time — and  all 
courtesy,  another.  What  do  you  think  of  her  coming  to  me,  and 
making  me  an  apology,  of  her  own  accord,  after  affronting  me  in 
that  shamefully  bluff,  rude  way,  which  you  witnessed,  the  morn- 
ing before  you  left  ?  " 

"  She  made  you"  an  apology  on  that  occasion  ?  " 

«  Yes— oh,  yes  ;  came  to  my  room,  the  last  thing  at  night 
— said  she  couldn't  sleep  or  rest  till  she'd  begged  my  pardon — 
and  I  don't  know  what.  The  strangest  girl,  Kate  always  WM  ! 
I  iii-ver  could  make  her  out,  for  my  part.  Hers  was  a  character 
I  could  never  understand." 

"  I  don't  wonder  at  that,"  observed  Fennor. 

"  No  ;  mine  is  so  precisely  the  reverse.  If  there  is  a  thing 
[  pique  myself  upon,  it  is  my  absence  of  caprice  and  whimsicality. 
I'm  always  the  same.  What  I  am  one  day,  I  am  an« -: 

V  mirror  of  uniformity,  :m  unruffled  lake,  a  wavelew  •««,  • 
perpetually  smiling  ocean,"  said  Fermor,  mechanically,  while  hb 


490  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

thoughts  were  employed  with  the  image  of  Kate's  face,  and 
picturing  to  himself  how  it  looked  while  she  was  speaking  her 
apology — that  apology  which  she  had  refused  to  his  urgency  at 
the  time,  but  had  subsequently  offered. 

Miss  White's  statement  of  her  own  character,  and  Fermora 
reply,  had  reached  the  ears  of  the  rest  of  the  company ;  and 
Miss  Constantia  Smythe  rejoined,  with  her  horse-laugh,  "  To 
some  tastes,  a  bit  of  a  tempest  is  more  tolerable  than  adead  calm." 

"  Mith  White  thtriketh  me  ath  more  like  a  dairy-pan  of  milk 
thet  for  thkimming,"  said  Constantia's  brother.  "  Thuch  a 
creamy  thkin  !  thuch  an  innothent  curdth-and-whey  look  about 
her.  She  theemth  ath  if  she  couldn't  even  drown  a  fly." 

"  But  you  should  have  seen  Kate  the  morning  after  you  left," 
resumed  Miss  White.  "  She  gave  herself  fine  airs ;  was  in  a 
perfect  flurry  and  fluster,  and  left  the  room  absolutely  pale  with 
anger,  because  the  'Squire  read  out  your  letter  announcing  your 
departure  for  the  continent,  which  she  chose  to  consider  abrupt 
and  unceremonious.  She  scarcely  deigned  to  notice  my  interest- 
ing news  of  being  about  to  visit  Germany ;  and  did  not  even  stop 
to  heai  the  tidings  of  poor  Mr.  Lascelles  receiving  his  mother's 
summons  to  return  to  India.  She  was  in  too  great  a  passion  to 
attend  to  anything  but  her  own  pettishness  and  proud  vagaries." 

Matty's  account  of  that  morning  flashed  into  Fermor's  mind. 
He  remembered  how  she  had  described  Kate's  agitation,  her 
almost  fainting  condition,  as  the  nurse  encountered  her,  leaving 
the  breakfast-room  on  that  occasion.  With  as  indifferent  an  air 
as  he  could  command,  he  made  a  slight  remark,  which  brought  a 
rejoinder  from  Miss  White,  making  it  clear  beyond  a  doubt,  that 
the  news  of  Cecil's  approaching  departure  for  India,  became 
known  to  Kate  after  her  return  to  the  breakfast-room  that  morn- 
ing. While  Fermor  was  lost  in  musing  upon  this,  the  conversa- 
tion proceeded. 

The  name  of  Cecil  Lascelles  having  chanced  to  meet  the  ears 
of  Miss  Constantia  Srnythe,  she  exclaimed,  "La!  do  you  know 
Cecil  Lascelles,  Alicia  ?  He's  an  old  flame  of  mine." 

"  Is  he,  Constantia  ?  Yes,  I  met  him  at  Heathcote  Hall  some 
time  since  I  did  not  know  he  was  an  acquaintance  of  yours." 


THE    IRON    CO'  49] 

'Oh,  lord,  ay;  I  was  deeply  smitten  with  lain  at  one  time 
But  I'm  not  going  to  wear  the  willow  for  him,  thank  you,  nor  for 
any  man,  I  can  tell  you  that." 

••  Wli.it,  did  he  prove  a  false  swain, then,  Constant!*?  Did 
he  leave  you  to  go  to  India  ?  " 

"  I  can't  accuse  him  of  deluding  me,"  said  Miss  Smythc  with 
ner  loud  laugh.  "  He  never  professed  much  « teudre '  for  me. 
But  I  liked  him ;  he  was  an  agreeable  rattlepate,  and  I  had  a  fan- 
cy for  him.  But  it  hasn't  broken  my  heart.  I  could  hear  of  hi* 
marriage,  t'other  day,  without  hanging  myself  in  my  own  gar- 
ters." 

"  Fie,  Constantia  !  "  said  Miss  White.  "  How  can  you  men- 
tion such  horrid  things  ?  " 

"  Hanging — or  garters,  do  you  mean  ?  "  roared  Miss  Smythe. 

"  Hush  !  For  shame ! "  simpered  Miss  White.  "  But,  married, 
did  you  say  ?  Mr.  Lascelles  married  !  I  always  thought  be  liked 
but  is  he  really  married  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  I  heard  it  from  the  best  authority.  It'll  be  in  the 
Lewspapers  soon.  I  suppose  tbo  old  lady,  his  mother,  will  be  fu- 
rious about  it.  She  had  a  scheme  for  marrying  him  to  some  gov- 
ernor's daughter  or  other,  over  there.  Instead  of  which,  my 
young  gentleman  must  needs  fall  in  love  on  ship  board — long 
royages  are  just  the  thing  for  falling  in  love — plenty  of  idle  time, 
nothing  better  to  think  of — and  so,  soon  after  they  landed,  the 
wedding  took  place.  The  news  has  just  reached  England  by  pri- 
vate letter,  and  it'll  shortly  be  known  through  the  journals.'' 

"  And  who  was  the  young  lady  ?  "  asked  Alicia. 

"  The  captain  of  the  vessel's  only  daughter,"  answered  Mias 
Smythc.  "  No  great  match,  mcthinks,  for  a  scion  of  the  Wrex- 
hams  But  I'll  be  bound  she  was  some  chit  with  a  pretty  face 
that  took  Master  Cecil's  fancy.  He  was  always  in  a  flame  for 
somebody.  At  Florence,  he  was  over  head  and  ears,  for  thai 
what  s-her-name  girl,  who  went  with  us  one  day  to  Fiesole.  Don't 
you  remember,  Hei>; 

"  Oh,  you  mean  that  thlap-dash  riding  girl,  with  a  dcuthed 
thtinging  tongue  of  her  own.  A  curthed  thmart,  thlithing  wit 
she  had,  which  thparrd  nobody.  Ireton,  I  think  her  name  wath." 


492  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

"  To  be  sure,  Ireton  ;  that's  she." 

"  Curious  !  Did  you  meet  Kate  Ireton  at  Florence?  "  said 
Alicia  White.  "  Tell  me  what  you  saw  of  her." 

"  Oh,  well,  she  was  the  sort  of  established  beauty  of  the  party, 
that  day.  The  men  all  took  it  into  their  heads  to  make  a  goddess 
of  her.  Lascelles  stuck  to  her  like  her  shadow ;  Byng  was  pro- 
digiously struck  too.  But  she  was  stone-blind  to  all  their  advan- 
ces; stone-deaf  to  all  their  compliments,  or  took  'em  as  matters 
of  course,  not  worth  notice.  She  treated  Lascelles  as  coolly  as 
though  he  had  been  a  three-year  old  husband.  He  was  mightily 
taken  with  her  ;  but  I  could  see  she  didn't  care  one  straw  for  him. 
Being  rather  smitten  with  him  myself  at  that  time,  I  should  have 
been  lynx-eyed  if  she'd  shown  him  the  least  encouragement.  But 
she  didn't ;  she  thought  no  more  of  him  than  of  an  old  stirrup." 

"  Talking  of  thtirrupth,  do  you  recollect  the  helter-thkelter 
headlong  leap  that  girl  took  that  thame  day,  Conthtantia  ?  "  said 
Mr.  Henry  Smythe. 

"  To  be  sure  I  do !  And  all  for  an  old  riding-whip  !  I  nev- 
er saw  such  break-neck  work  in  my  life !  "  returned  Miss  Constan- 
tia. 

"  Just  like  her !  "  said  Alicia  White.  "  She  cared  for  noth 
ing,  when  one  of  her  whims  was  in  question.  And  so  she  took  a 
headlong  leap  after  a  whip,  did  she  ?  Had  she  lost  it  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  it  sprang  out  of  her  hand,  and  pitched  down  a  preci- 
pice, and  nothing  would  suit  her,  but  she  must  dash  pell-mell  after 
it,"  replied  Miss  Smythe. 

"  Precisely  Kate !  "  exclaimed  Miss  White.  "  No  matter 
what  trifle,  if  she  had  set  her  heart  on  it,  have  it  back  she  would, 
at  whatever  risk." 

"  Did  you  chance  to  observe  what  kind  of  whip  this  was,  Miss 
Smythe  ?  "  asked  Fermor,  in  a  low  voice.  rt  A  foreign  one,  was  it 
not  ?  An  elegant  trifle,  with  an  ivory  handle  ?  " 

"  Lord,  no  !  An  old-fashioned  clumsy  article,  as  ever  you  set 
eyes  on,"  she  answered.  "  A  great  silver-mounted  thing — regu- 
lar English — you  might  swear  to  it,  a  heavy,  ugly  concern,  more 
like  a  man's  riding- whip  than  a  lady's.  Yet  this  was  what  oui 


THE    tKO.X    COUSIN.  4QS 

perverse  damsel  must  needs  all  but  break  her  neck  to  regain.  8b« 
had  a  regular  spirit  of  her  own.  Fine  girl,  bat  plaguy  haughty 
and  bluff  Splendid  horsewoman,  but  deuced  headstrong  and  wil- 
ful.'' 

"  She  has  had  plenty  to  take  down  her  spirit  since,"  raid  Ali- 
i-ia  White. 

"  You  don't  thay  tho  ?  "  said  Mr.  Henry  Smythe,  adjusting 
his  glass  in  his  eye,  and  looking  curiously  at  Alicia. 

"  Quite  true;  she  lost  her  doting  old  relation,  and  with  him 
fortune,  station,  everything.  From  being  mistress  of  a  fine  man- 
sion  and  park,  she  suddenly  dropped  to  nothing — glad  to  hide  her 
head  in  a  cottage,  and  take  a  situation  in  a  national  school.  Sad 
fall,  wasn't  it,  for  one  of  her  temper  ?  "  said  Alicia  White. 

"  Therve  her  right !  teach  her  to  rein  in  her  intholent  wit  1  " 
exclaimed  Mr.  Smythe.  "  She  could  curb  her  thtecd,  but  not  her 
tongue.  Now  she'll  have  to  give  up  horthe-riding  and  her  unbri- 
dled thpeecheth  altho.  Ton  my  thoul !  I  should  thay,  itth quite 
a  providenthe  I " 

"  Well,  one  might  think  it  would  have  tamed  her,  but  not  at 
all.  She's  just  as  haughty,  and  full  of  her  high  notions  as  ever. 
She  wrote  a  letter  to  mamma — I'm  sure,  from  its  tone,  so  fret 
and  independent  (quite  insolent,  you  know,  from  one  in  her  situa 
tion— changed  as  it  was),  you'd  have  thought  nothing  had  happen 
ed  to  take  down  her  pride  and  her  airs.  Whereas,  any  one  elso 
would  have  been  taught  proper  meekness,  by  such  a  reverse." 

"  And  proper— or  what  is  sometimes  thought,  proper— aerril- 
ity,"  said  Fermor,  in  his  quiet  emphatic  way. 

"  A  certain  degree  of  submission  is  surely  becoming,  in  alter- 
ed fortunes,"  said  Alicia.  "  People  should  learn  to  know  their 
place,  and  behave  conformably,  when  fate  has  adjudged  them  • 
lower  condition.  For  my  part,  knowing  Kate's  defect,  I  rejoiced, 
when  I  heard  of  her  loss,  in  hopes  it  would  be  the  means  of  curing 
her  intolerable  pride;  I  really  did." 

"  You  did  ?  "  said  Fermor. 

«  Yes;  although  she  never  treated  me  well— was  always  inso- 
lent and  disdainful,  which  I  chose  to  bear  with,  for  the  take  «f 


494  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

her  position  then,  there  being  a  kind  of  relationship  between  us— 
yet  I  took  sufficient  interest  in  her,  to  be  glad  of  her  misfortune, 
out  of  a  charitable  wish  that  it  should  cure  her  faults." 

"  Out  of  your  charity,  and  not  out  of  your  bad  heart, — you  are 
sure  ?  "  said  Fermor. 

" '  Bad  heart ! '  What  do  you  mean,  Mr.  Worthington  ?  " 
gasped  Alicia  White. 

"  You  are  quite  sure  it  was  out  of  no  malevolence, — no  ma- 
lignant desire  to  see  her  humbled  ?  Out  of  no  spiteful  exultation 
at  seeing  one  abased,  who  had  mortified  your  consequence  ?  As 
you  say,  the  position  which  then  induced  you  to  endure  her  con- 
tempt, ceased ;  and  you  held  yourself  absolved  from  treating  her 
with  any  farther  forbearance.  The  relationship  which  then  exist- 
ed, of  course  existed  no  longer,  when  the  wealthy  young  lady  be- 
came the  penniless  school  teacher,  and  you  felt  fully  justified  in 
treating  her  thenceforth  as  the  nobody  she  had  dwindled  into. 
How  should  you,  in  your  charitable  disposition,  see  anything  but 
cause  for  rejoicing,  at  this  most  providential  ordering  of  events  ? 
I  can  quite  understand  your  conduct  throughout ;  it  is  worthy  of 
you." 

"  I  dou't  understand  you,  Mr.  Worthington." 

"  Possibly  not.  I  will  speak  more  plainly.  Relationship  is  a 
strange  bond.  I  cannot  think  poverty,  wreck  of  fortune,  loss  of 
prosperity,  ought  to  dissolve  it.  Much  rather  could  I  believe  an 
abject  subserviency,  and  cringing  desire  to  ingratiate  ourselves 
with  those  who  might  serve  us,  a  cause  for  disclaiming  affinity. 
Still  more,  do  I  feel  malice,  hardness  of  heart,  and  want  of  feel- 
iug,  cloaked  by  soft  protestations,  silky  words,  and  sugared  pro- 
fessions, a  reason  for  breaking  through  ties  of  kin,  where  there  is 
no  kindred  sentiment.  For  my  own  part,  I  shall  henceforth  be 
content  to  acknowledge  no  relationship  between  myself  and  the 
heiress  of  Egghain  Park ;  while  one  of  my  proudest  boasts,  my 
most  honourable  privileges,  is,  that  I  may  claim  to  be  the  kins- 
man of  the  village  school-mistress, — the  noble  woman  who  prefer- 
red working,  and  earning  her  own  bread,  to  a  mean  and  sordid 
dependence.  Permit  me  to  take  my  leave  of  affluent  charitable- 


THE    IRON    CO 


heartedness,  since  it  knows  not  how  to  appreciate  my  cousin,- 
noble,  admirable  Kate  Ireton..    Good  day  to  you!" 

And,  slightly  raising  his  hat  to  the  assembled  party,  Permot 
Worthington  turned  on  his  heel,  and  left  them. 


CHAPTER  LV. 

No  sooner  was  he  alone,  than  all  that  he  had  by  BO  singular  • 
chaucc  heard,  recurred  to  Fermor  in  vivid,  forcible  reflection. 

His  heart  melted  within  him  at  the  thought  of  Kate's  having 
made  an  apology  that  night  to  Alicia  White.  It  so  entirely  sat- 
isfied  bis  faith  in  the  true  excellence  of  her  nature;  it  so  com- 
pletely confirmed  tbs  belief  he  had  of  her  sense  of  right;  it  so 
thoroughly  gratified  the  glory  he  took  in  her  liner  qualities  of 
character.  While  he  could  not  doubt  that  this  act  sprang  from 
the  effect  of  his  own  influence  upon  her,  and  while  exultantly  per- 
ceiving it,  he  at  the  same  time  accused  himself  of  precipitancy, 
of  insufficient  patience  with  her,  of  too  peremptory  dealing  towards 
one  of  her  high  spirit,  and  quick,  sensitive  temper.  He  arraign- 
ed his  own  cursory  judgment,  his  own  hasty  conclusions,  his  own 
want  of  temperate  consideration,  and  quiet  abiding,  which  had 
prompted  his  abrupt  withdrawal  at  that  juncture.  He  told  him* 
self  that  he  ought  to  have  had  firmer  credence  in  her  worth,  and 
have  waited  more  trustingly  the  developement  of  that  true  good* 
ness  which  lay  beneath  the  superficial  perverseness  and  wayward- 
ness  of  her  behaviour,  and  of  which  he  had  had  many  involuntary 
testimonies.  He  told  himself  that  he  ought  to  bare  known  her 
genuine  rectitude,  and  tolerated  the  temporary  wilfulness  lenient- 
ly, considerately,  since  ho  bad  had  opportunities  of  observing  her 
make  herself  appear  less  excellent  than  she  really  waft. 
He  remembered  how  the  proud,  susceptible  spirit  shrank  from 
.  and  was  ever  ready  mther  to  disparage  itself,  than  to  pot 
forth  it*  cliiuis  to  just  applaunc.  He  now  found  that  at  the 


496  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

time  she  persevered  in  refusing  to  admit  her  intention  of  acting 
rightly,  and  while  petulantly  accusing  him  of  tyranny  in  suggesting 
the  course  to  her,  she  had  really  resolved  upon  doing  what  she 
felt  and  knew  to  be  due,  and  had  actually  put  it  in  practice  before 
she  slept. 

This  peculiar  characteristic  of  hers,  was  farther  corroborated 
by  the  circumstance  of  the  riding-whip.  She  had,  in  fact,  risked 
her  life,  for  what  she  allowed  him  to  think  she  had  disregarded 
and  lost,  without  one  thought  of  its  donor.  However  Fermor 
might  be  unable  to  account  for  the  subsequent  casualty  of  its 
dropping  into  the  river  Arno,  he  at  all  events  could  not  but  un- 
derstand that  she  had  cared  for  it  sufficiently  to  imperil  her  own 
existence  to  regain  it,  when  on  one  occasion  it  had  been  nearly 
lost ;  that  it  had  accompanied  her  abroad,  that  she  had  carried  it 
with  her,  had  used  it,  and  had  held  its  donor  sufficiently  in  mem- 
ory to  prize  and  cherish  it. 

"  She  had  some  tenderness  for  the  Iron  Cousin,  at  one  time, 
— I  must  believe  it !  "  was  his  passionate  thought.  "  Ah,  why 
did  I  not  stay  and  learn  the  truth  ?  Why  did  I  rashly  conclude 
her  light  speech  betokened  lightness  of  feeling  ?  Why  did  I  un- 
justly deem  her  capable  of  no  profounder  sentiment  than  indiffer- 
ence and  disregard,  because  she  was  gay,  and  playful,  and  careless, 
in  the  mere  brightness  of  an  unshadowed  youth  ?  I  might  then 
have  discovered  that  the  Iron  Cousin  was  distinguished,  instead 
of  stigmatized,  by  her  pointed  taunts;  that  they  implied  anything 
but  scorn, — nay,  a  higher  liking,  a  certain  exclusive  preference, 
which  might  have  ripened  into  dearest  regard.  But  I  by  my  own 
ill-judged  haste,  neglected  to  discern  aright,  decided  in  all  re- 
spects amiss,  and  left  another  to  win  that  affection,  which  perchance 
might  have  been  mine, — my  glory  and  my  happiness, — had  I  duly 
and  truly  understood  her  in  her  innocent  subterfuge  of  captious 
behaviour,  and  sweet  reserve  of  playful,  wayward  will.  Her  agi- 
tation, her  perturbed  emotion,  that  morning !  It  was  not  occa- 
sioned by  the  announcement  of  his  departure,  it  seems,  but  by 
mine !  dear,  most  beloved  Kate !  by  the  obtuse,  inapprehensive 
Iron  Cousin's !  Most  cruelly  is  he  punished.  For,  if  you  felt 


THE   IKON   COUSIN.  497 

this  concern  at  learning  his  withdrawal,  did  it  not  leave  you  to  b« 
won  into  feeling  still  keener  regret  at  parting  with  one  who  had 
thus  the  opportunity  to  secure  you  to  himself?" 

Neither  of  the  accounts  which  Permor  had  heard  of  that  period'* 
occurrences,  afforded  him  any  clue  to  the  fact,  that  Cecil's  quit, 
ting  Heathcote  immediately  followed  his  own.  His  imagination 
pictured  an  interval,  during  which  Cecil  had  doubtless  had  tiiuo 
to  urge  his  suit,  to  plead  his  glowing  attachment,  to  win  his  way 
to  Kate  Ireton's  love;  to  address  her  uninterruptedly  and  unre- 
servedly ;  to  profit  by  the  advantageous  contrast  he  presented, — 
as  an  ardent,  warmly-devoted,  eagerly  assiduous  wooer, — with  one 
who  had  coldly  and  blindly  neglected  to  pursue  the  preferable  im- 
pression which,  from  early  liking  and  affectionate  intimacy,  possi- 
bly existed. 

And  then  the  pang  was  renewed  with  which  Fennor  had 
heard  Matty's  relation  of  Cecil's  leave-taking.  Again  he  writhed 
in  anguish  to  think  of  Kate  clasped  in  other  arms  than  his  own, 
pressed  to  another's  heart,  exchanging  vows  of  faith  and  love 
with  any  other  than  himself. 

And  then,  above  all,  came  the  recollection  of  the  tidings  he 
had  heard.  Could  it  be,  that  the  man  who  was  Kate  Iretoo'v 
accepted  lover,  was  false  to  his  own  pledge  of  constancy,  to  her 
plighted  (roth  ?  Could  it  indeed  be,  that  Cecil  Lascclles  w»» 
married  ?  In  the  thought  of  what  her  grief  would  be,  bis  own 
became  merged  He  felt  that  he  could  better  bear  his  own  dis- 
appointment than  endure  the  thought  of  hers.  In  his  burning 
indignation  on  her  behalf,  Fermor  felt  as  though  he  could  bvn 
set  forth  on  a  pilgrimage  to  India,  to  demand  account  of  CechV« 
hrhavioiir  to  Kate.  In  resentment  for  his  cousin's  outraged 
affection,  Fermor  Worthington  forgot  that  the  woman  he  loved 
was  released  from  the  bond  which  affianced  her  to  another.  In 
his  generous  wrath,  he  lost  sight  of  what  more  immediately 
touched  himself.  For  her  be  felt,  for  her  be  grieved. 

The  sum  of  his  reflections  was  an  irresistible  desire  to  return. 
!  .aid  not  remain  away  from  her;  whatever  resulted,  near  M 
tor  ho  must  be.  If  he  could  not  avert  the  blow,  he  coold  yet  be 


498  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

by  her  side,  to  break  its  force  ;  if  he  could  not  preserve  her  from 
its  misery,  he  might  nevertheless  be  at  hand  to  sustain  and 
console. 

Animated  by  this  thought,  he  left  immediately ;  he  journeyed 
night  and  day,  in  order  that  he  might,  if  possible,  anticipate  the 
chance  of  the  intelligence  reaching  her  suddenly,  through  a  pub- 
lic channel.  In  the  strength  of  his  devotion  to  her,  he  resolved 
himself  to  be  the  medium  of  communicating  it  to  her  ;  gathering 
courage  for  the  task,  out  of  a  hope  to  spare  her,  by  a  softened 
and  gradual  relation  of  the  tidings. 

It  demanded  all  delicacy,  all  fortitude ;  but  the  Iron  Cousin 
felt  he  should  be  inspired  with  both,  thinking  upon  hers,  which 
were  to  be  guarded  from  this  shock. 

He  arrived  at  Worthington  Court  late  in  the  evening; — too 
late  to  go  then  over  to  the  village ;  and  he  was  glad  to  think  she 
would  have  one  more  calm  night's  rest. 

Upon  his  breakfast-table  next  morning,  there  lay  a  heap  of 
letters  and  papers,  that  had  accumulated  during  his  absence. 
He  seized  them  and  tore  them  open,  with  a  secret  misgiving. 
One  of  the  first  things  he  read  was  a  paragraph  announcing  Cecil 
Lascelles'  marriage,  among  the  latest  news  from  India. 

The  words  swam  before  his  eyes ;  and,  for  one  instant,  he 
paused.  The  next,  collecting  all  his  energy,  he  rose,  rang  the 
bell,  and  ordered  his  horse  to  be  saddled  without  delay. 

The  interim  he  employed  in  endeavouring  to  arrange  hia 
thoughts  and  compose  his  manner.  The  whole  period  of  his  ride 
was  dedicated  to  the  same  endeavour,  and  in  trying  to  shape  what 
be  had  to  say  in  the  least  startling  and  least  painful  terms.  The 
image  presented  itself  of  that  unconscious  face,  in  its  serene 
beauty,  which  it  was  his  appointed  duty  to  cover  with  affliction, 
to  bathe  in  tears,  to  plunge  into  distress  and  profoundest  uuhap- 
piness ;  and  he  could  even  now  have  shrunk  from  the  office  ho  had 
imposed  on  himself,  had  not  the  motives  which  first  induced  him 
to  undertake  it  still  prevailed.  Swayed  by  these,  he  persevered, 
and  kept  on  his  way,  at  each  step  studying  how  he  might  best 
Bteady  his  own  agitation  and  calm  hers.  Then  a  dread  arose,  lest 


THE    IRON    COUSIN.  499 

all  his  care  should  prove  fruitless,  and  that  the  tidings  might  al- 
ready have  n-uched  her.  la  that  case,  ho  felt  how  worse  than 
v:iin  would  be  nil  his  efforts  to  tranquillize  her;  that  then  all  he 
could  do  would  be  to  let  time  work  its  own  nalutary  effect,  and 
leave  her  to  its  silent  influence. 

He  approached  the  cottage  as  quietly  aa  might  be.  The  first 
sight  he  beheld,  on  looking  through  the  screen  of  limes  which  ran 
round  the  small  fore-court,  and  divided  it  from  tho  village  street ' 
in  front,  held  him  motionless.  He  saw  Kate  Ireton  seated  be- 
side her  old  nurse  in  the  cottage  porch — Matty,  as  usual,  im- 
mersed in  her  knitting,  while  Kate  sat,  her  hands  clasped  to- 
gether in  her  lap,  her  brimming  eyes  fixed  on  space,  a  fallen 
newspaper  lying  at  her  feet,  and  her  whole  air  betokening  that 

tlu-  fatal  news  had  just  been  read. 

Fermor  recoiled.     "  She  knows  it !     She  knows  it  already  ! 

was  his  thought. 

He  could  not  stay  to  look  upon  her  grief.     Ho  could  not 

encounter  the  agony  of  witnessing  her  emotion.     He  rode  on 

slowly,  wrapt  in  profound  sympathy  with  her  affliction;  torn 

by  ineffectual  desire  to  mitigate   its  torture,   to   alleviate  its 

anguish. 

He  wandered  on,  unable  to  quit  her  vicinity,  yet  incapable 

i,i'   intruding  upon   the   sacredness  of  her  sorrow   in  its   first 

poignancy. 

Ho  was  roused  from  his  trance  of  thought  by  a  young  voice 

ing  him. 

"  Ah,  Mr.  Worthiugtou,  I'm  so  glad  to  see  you  ! 
horseback,  too  !     Now  you  can  perform  your  promise  of  girtng 
mo  a  ride.      Take  me  up  before  you,  will  you  ?  and  we  can  go 
homo  together.     Papa  and  mamma  will  bo  so  giad  to  see  you— 

as  glad  as  I  am." 

Fermor  Wurthington  saw  that  it  was  bis  li 
Meadows,  and  remembering  tho  promise  be  had  once  made  him, 
leaned  down  and  raUed  him  to  the  saddle,  although  at 
Ull,mciit  he  could  have  well  dispensed  with  the  child  ,-.»} 

and  prattle. 


500  THE  rnoN  COUSIN. 

"  You  keep  your  promises  !  "  said  the  boy,  delightedly.  •'  Sc 
does  Kaytighton.  She  kept  her  promise  about  showing  me  how 
she  made  the  watch-spring  open  at  the  back..  For  a  long  time  it 
was  a  wonder  to  me — oh,  such  a  wonder !  I  didn't  notice  her 
thumb — that  sly  little  thumb — where  it  pressed.  It  was  so 
strange  to  me  to  see  the  back  fly  up,  whenever  I  said  certain 
names." 

"  <  Certain  names  ? '  " 

"  Yes;  she  made  a  sort  of  play  of  it,  and  used  to  make  me 
say,  '  Open  Sesame  for  mamma  ! '  '  Open  Sesame  for  papa  ! ' 
At  those,  it  always  sprang  up.  Then,  '  Open  Sesame,'  for  the 
brothers  and  sisters ;  '  for  Polly,'  '  for  Bella,'  '  for  John,'  '  for 
Lyddy,'  '  for  Charley,' — sometimes.  '  For  Harry  ' — now  and 
then ;  '  for  Kaytighton  ' — very  seldom.  But,  aha  !  I  noticed 
that  it  always  flew  up  at  once  when  I  said,  '  Open  Sesame  for 
Mr.  Worthington.'  Do  you  know,  I  think  Kaytighton  likes  you 
very  much." 

"  Harry,  should  you  like  to  have  a  watch  of  your  own  ? 
A  real  watch — that  you  could  wind  up  yourself,  and  tell  the 
time  by  ?  " 

"  Should  I  like  it  ?     Oh,  beyond  anything — everything  !  " 

"  Well,  I  mean  to  bring  you  one,  the  first  time  papa  tells  me 
you  have  worked  very  hard  at  your  Latin  grammar." 

"  Oh,  I'll  work— I'll  work !  I'll  fag  at  it,  but  I'll  earn  the 
dear  little  watch.  And  if  you  do  bring  me  one,  then  I'll  play 
with  Kaytighton  in  my  turn,  and  make  her  say, '  Open  Sesame 
for  Mr.  Worthington  ! '  But  here  we  are  at  home,  Let  me  run 
in  and  tell  them  what  you  promised  me.  And  you  must  come  in 
too.  I  want  to  show  you  my  new  batch  of  seals.  Kaytighton 
made  me  dozens  and  dozens — f.  '$.,  £  1#. — as  many  as  ever  I 
liked.  And  she  only  asked  one  for  her  pains  ;  and  not  even  one 
of  the  new  ones,  but  contented  herself  with  one  of  the  old  ones 
out  of  the  box — one  of  those  you  made  for  me." 

"  I  dare  say,  you  wouldn't  grudge  me  one  of  the  new  ones, 
would  you,  Harry?"  said  Fermor  Worthington. 

"  That  I  wouldn't !    Have  as  many  as  you  like." 


THE  mow  COUSIN.  501 

"No;  one  will  do." 

';  Ah  !  I  know  why  you  want  it;  you  want  to  make  a  broad* 
seal  from  it,  as  you've  given  me  the  stamp." 


As  Fermor  rode  homeward,  looking  upon  the  seal  she  had 
made,  thinking  of  the  one  she  had  asked  for  of  his  making,  the 
child's  words  rang  in  his  ears ;  "  I  think  Kaytighton  likes  you 
very  much." 

"  Likes  me,"  he  mused.  "  Ay,  I  do  believe  she  has  liking 
for  me ;  I  do  believe  she  has  regard,  esteem,  old  liking  for  the 
Iron  Cousin.  Beneath  all — in  spite  of  all — I  feel  that  she  has 
a  kindly  preference,  a  gentle,  friendly  affection  for  me.  Did  I 
ever  think  to  be  content  with  '  liking,'  with  affection,  esteem,  re- 
gard ?  From  her,  too  !  Above,  all,  did  I  ever  believe  I  could 
have  been  satisfied  with  srconil  love  ?  Yet,  to  be  the  object  of 
Kate  Ire  ton's  preference  on  any  terms,  seems  now  to  me  worth 
all  beside.  Yes  ;  strangely  impossible  as  it  seemed  to  me,  when 
he  once  said  it — I  have  come  to  feel  that  her  bare  liking  would 
suffice  me,  would  be  dearer  to  me  than  aught  the  world  contains. 
Might  I  but  hope  to  win  her  loving  preference,  even  now,  after 
all  that  has  passed,  I  should  prize  it  beyond  all  blest  posessions. 
Might  I  but  hope  shr  cherished  for  mo  but  a  faint  shadow  of  what 
I  feel  towards  her,  I  would  welcome  it  as  earth 's  choicest  treas- 
ure ;  I  would  foster  it  into  answering  warmth  by  mine  own  fer- 
vour until  it  satisfied  my  craving  for  responsive,  mutual  passion. 
I  would  never  rest  until  the  iron  nature,  by  revealing  the  latent 
ardour  which  glows  beneath  its  cold  exterior,  awoke  some  degrt* 
of  returning  fire.  And  to  have  Kate's  love  1  To  have  that  gen 
erous,  noble  heart  mine  !  To  have  it  beat  with  but  one  of  the 
thousand  impassioned  yearnings  that  now  fill  mine  at  the  thought 
cf  her  ! " 

As  Fermor's  spirit  yielded  itself  to  these  lover's  fantasies  of 
fond  day  dreaming,  he  saw  before  him,  just  in  bis  path,  but  * 
»omc  little  distance,  the  figure  of  a  woman  in  a  red  ' 


502  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

She  trudged  on  ploddingly,  keeping  the  foot-way  by  the  side  of 
the  lane,  along  which  his  horse  was  proceeding.  It  was  not  fat 
from  the  entrance  to  his  own  park,  the  lodge-gate  being  almost  in 
view.  He  was  already  on  his  own  land,  and  a  few  of  the  cotta- 
ges belonging  to  some  of  his  tenantry,  skirted  the  road. 

At  the  gate  of  one  of  them,  the  woman  in  the  red  cloak  stop- 
ped ;  and  on  turning  round,  at  the  sound  of  the  approaching 
horse's  foot,  she  discovered  the  face  of  Goody  Johnson. 

Fermor  Worthington  accosted  her,  made  a  few  kindly  enqui- 
ries after  her  own  health,  and  then  thanked  her  for  having  brought 
him  some  flowers  during  his  illness,  when  he  was  lying  sick  of 
the  fever  at  the  hamlet  hard  by. 

"  Flowers,  your  honour  !  I  heard  of  your  accident,  and  heard 
you  were  not  to  be  disturbed  on  no  account.  But  I  should  never 
ha'  done  such  a  fool's  trick  as  brought  you  flowers.  If  I'd  had 
anything  to  bring,  or  if  I  could  ha'  got  anything  to  bring,  it 
should  ha'  been  wholesome  physic,  not  unwholesome  flowers. 
There'd  ha'  been  some  sense  in  roobub,  or  magneeshy,  or  any- 
thing o'  that  sort ;  but  flowers !  No,  no !  Every  fool  knows 
that  flowers  in  a  sick-room  is  as  bad  as  a  draught  o'  cold  water, 
or  a  draught  o'  cold  air,  when  folks  ought  to  be  kept  wrapped  up 
and  warm.  Pd  as  soon  ha'  thought  o'  troubling  your  honour 
with  a  present  of  a  bucket  o'  water  as  a  nosegay  o'  flowers  ! 
Why,  it's  the  most  unhealthiest  thing  as  is  in  a  sick-room." 

"  Then,  since  you  think  so,  Goody,  thank  you  for  not  bring 
ing  it  to  me,"  said  Fermor. 

"  Oh,  you're  quite  welcome,  your  honour  ! "  said  Goody  John- 
son, dropping  a  curtsey,  and  retreating  into  her  cottage  with 
much  complacency. 


Returned  to  his  own  home,  Fermor  Worthington  could  not 
rest.  He  wandered  from  room  to  room,  absent,  sighing,  and  un- 
occupied.  He  could  not  settle  to  any  employment;  he  could  not 
remain  in  any  fixed  place. 

lie  went  into  the  library ;  but  could  not  read.     He  went  intu 


THE   IRON   COUSIN.  503 

the  morning-parlour  ;  but  stood,  lost  in  thought,  opposite  to  the 
picture  of  his  namesake  sister — the  painting  which  had  so  fre- 
quently engrossed  the  attention  of  her  who  absorbed  his  every 
"l-:i.  He  looked  at  the  cabinet  containing  the  ridinc-whip  which 
had  been  exchanged  in  playful,  affectionate  token  of  r. 
brance  with  her  for  one  that,  he  now  found,  she  had  risked  her 
lit'.-  to  retain.  He  tried  to  write,  or  study,  in  his  own  private 
sitting-room  ;  but  there,  he  could  do  nothing  but  gaze  upon  the 
drawings — her  drawings — that  hung  there,  and  think  of  the 
single  sketch  she  had  selected  from  among  them,  and  ponder 
upon  what  motive  had  principally  influenced  her  when  she  did 
so. 

Smiling  at  his  own  wandering,  uncontrollable  mood  of  mind, 
his  uncertain,  purposeless  condition,  his  inquietude,  his  gnawing 
anxiety,  his  frequent  sighs,  Fermor  asked  himself  if  this  could  be 
the  Iron  Cousin  ?  This  irresolute,  wavering,  restless  being,  with 
trembling  hands,  and  still  more  trembling  heart  ? 

Starting  up,  he  left  the  room,  and  strolled  forth  upon  the 
terrace.  The  afternoon  sun  was  pouring  its  golden  beams  full 
upon  the  tranquil  scene.  He  thought  upon  the  face  he  had  be- 
held that  morning — sad,  mournful,  unhappy.  He  thought  of  her 
attitude — sunk  in  sorrow,  drooping,  dejected. 

He  reproached  himself  with  selfishness,  in  having  shrunk 
from  enduring  to  look  upon  her  regret,  when  ho  should  hare 
stifled  his  own,  and  made  an  attempt  to  assuage  and  dissipate 
hers.  He  accused  himself  of  remissness,  of  nnkindoen,  of  want 
of  courage,  of  want  of  consideration,  of  failure  in  all  that  he 
should  have  done. 

Suddenly,  ho  decided.  Hastily  gathering  a  handful  of  beau- 
tiful moss-roses  that  grew  in  profusion  on  a  bush  near,  and  adding 
ono  spray  from  the  clustering  woodbine,  Fermor  took  his  way 
down  the  ti  mice-steps,  and  struck  straight  aw )ss  the  park,  in 
the  direction  of  the  village. 


504  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 


CHAPTER  LVI. 

ARRIVED  at  the  cottage,  Fermor  Worthington  raised   the  latch 
an'd  went  in. 

He  found  Ruth  Field  seated,  reading.  It  was  just  the  close 
of  the  midsummer  holidays,  and  there  was  no  school  to  interfere 
with  the  enjoyment  of  leisure. 

In  her  quiet  way,  the  sub-monitress  rose  to  receive  him, 
mentioning  that  his  cousin  had  lain  down  for  an  hour,  but  that 
she  was  perfectly  well,  and  would  doubtless  soon  appear. 

"  It  was  I  who  persuaded  her  to  lie  down,"  said  Ruth.  "  She 
learned  some  news  this  morning  that  agitated  her — news  both 
welcome  and  painful.  The  former  was  of  a  friend's  marriage  in 
India,  she  told  me;  and  the  latter,  the  sudden  death  of  Mr. 
Weldon,  the  celebrated  lawyer.  He  was  an  old  and  valued, 
friend  of  her  uncle's,  and  most  kind  to  her  in  the  crisis  of  her 
distress." 

While  Fermor's  very  soul  drank  in  the  import  of  what  she 
had  spoken,  he  contrived  to  utter  something  in  an  ordinary  tone, 
commending  Ruth  for  inducing  Kate  to  rest,  saying  he  would 
not  have  her  disturbed,  and  should  wait. 

Then  Ruth  made  gentle  inquiry  concerning  his  own  health, 
and  of  the  benefit  she  hoped  he  had  derived  from  his  sojourn  at 
the  sea-side.  After  a  short  conversation,  in  which  Fermor  Wor- 
thington  bore  his  share  by  that  mechanical  power  which  enables 
speech  while  the  mind  is  wholly  occupied  with  other  thoughts,  he 
turned  to  the  little  table  and  absently  took  up  the  ivory-handled 
Florentine  riding-whip. 

"  It  is  a  most  elegant  piece  of  workmanship,  is  it  not  ?  "  said 
Ruth  Field.  "  Miss  Ireton  greatly  prizes  that  whip  for  the  sake 
of  her  uncle.  It  was  his  gift,  she  told  me,  to  replace  one  she 
much  valued,  which  was  lost  by  accident  in  the  river  Arno.  She 
mentioned  it  as  an  instance  of  his  constant  eagerness  to  gratify 
her ;  for  having  hastily  flung  away  the  whip  she  liked,  because  it 
had  nearly  perilled  her  life  on  one  occasion,  he  got  a  friend,  on 


THE    IEON    COUSIN.  .',03 

whose  taste  he  could  rely,  to  choose  a  new  one  for  him  to  gin 
her  in  its  stead.  It  is  a  beautiful  toy;  but  no  wonder  she  tees 
a  beauty  in  it  beyond  its  own,  reminding  her  as  it  does  of  the 
loving  parent  who  made  it  his  perpetual  study  to  please  her." 

In  the  midst  of  the  profound  gratification  that  stirred  Per- 
mor's  heart,  he  could  not  help  thinking,  with  an  inward  smilr, 
"  How  little  that  mild  quiet  Ruth  dreams  the  content  her  few 
simple  sentences,  since  my  entrance,  have  conveyed." 

While,  perhaps,  "  quiet  Ruth,"  in  her  heart,  guessed  more 
than  he  thought  of  what  was  passing  in  his ;  and  perhaps — by 
an  instinct  which  pertains  to  very  quiet  people,  who  are  at  once 
observant  and  delicate — she  had  long  surmised  a  great  deal  more 
than  he  imagined,  of  what  was  passing  there. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  she  presently  left  him,  and  went  up-stairs, 
in  her  own  quiet  fashion,  to  see  whether  Kate  Ireton  was  stir- 
ring. 

She  found  her  risen,  and  smoothing  her  hair,  after  the  slight 
disorder  occasioned  by  the  pillow ;  and  "  quiet  Ruth"  noticed 
that  she  was  brushing  it  out  into  its  long  shining  curls. 

Kate  spoke  cheerfully  and  alertly,  saying  she  felt  much  re- 
freshed by  her  hour's  rest,  and  thanking  Ruth  for  having  recom- 
mended it. 

"  Your  cousin,  Mr.  Worthington,  is  below,"  said  "  quiet 
Ruth." 

"  I  thought  I  heard  a  voice  below ;  I  thought  I  heard  tome 
one  talking  with  you,  Ruthy.  I  will  go  to  him  immediately," 
answered  Kate. 

"  *  A  voice ! '  '  some  one ! ' "  repeated  "quiet  Ruth,"  smilingly, 
to  herself. 

And  then,  smiling  still,  in  her  own  quiet  way,  "  quiet  Ruth 
Field  "  passed  into  Matty's  room,  leaving  Kate  to  go  down  iUiri 
by  herself. 


Irrepressible  joy  to  sec  him  again,  mantled  in  her 
played  in  dimples  round  her  mouth,  and  sat  lustrou*  IB  her  eyt» 


506  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

as  Kate  descended  into  the  room,  and  advanced  to  meet  FermoT 
Worthington.  She  looked  even  radiantly  blooming. 

No  mortal  save  the  one  beloved,  ever  beholds  a  human  face 
at  its  culminating  point  of  beauty.  Love,  in  the  rapturous  inten- 
sity of  the  passion,  reveals  a  countenance  at  its  zenith  of  perfec- 
tion— a  revelation  reserved  for  one  sole  witness  upon  earth. 

Fermor  could  not  speak,  but  went  forward,  grasped  her  hand 
in  his,  and  offered  the  fresh-gathered  roses. 

As  Kate  took  them,  she  said  playfully,  "  This  is  the  way, 
then,  you  pass  off  your  Worthington  honey-suckle,  among  my 
favourite  roses.  True  Worthington  pride  !  The  queen  of  flow- 
ers is  to  be  but  ancillary,  forsooth,  to  the  introduction  of  youj 
lordly  chosen  blossom." 

"  You  recognize  it.  Kate  !  "  he  exclaimed. 

She  did  not  reply,  but  turned  away,  and  began  to  arrange  the 
flowers  in  a  glass  upon  the  mantel-shelf.  There  was  something 
in  her  attitude,  in  the  raised  hands,  in  their  whiteness  among 
the  glowing-coloured  blossoms,  that  recalled  the  vision  of  his  ill- 
ness. 

"  In  my  fever,  when  my  delirium  was  at  its  height,  I  dreamed 
that  an  angel,  a  gentle  spirit,  in  the  form  of  an  old  woman  in  a 
red  cloak,  brought  me  some  of  my  favourite  flowers,  a  heap  of 
woodbine  from  the  study-window  at  my  own  Worthington,"  said 
Fermor,  in  a  low  voice. 

Kate  kept  her  position,  without  turning  or  stirring.  Her  back 
was  towards  him ;  but  he  could  see  so  much  of  her  white  throat 
as  was  visible,  become  suddenly  crimson. 

Fermor's  heart  leaped  to  his  lips  at  the  sight. 

He  moved  towards  her  ;  and,  in  the  tone  which  always  went 
nome  to  Kate's  inmost  heart,  he  said,  "  The  dream,  the  figure, 
was  not  less  palpable  than  yours  at  this  instant." 

She  attempted  to  rally  against  the  overpowering  effect  of  voice, 
words,  and  manner,  by  replying,  in  her  old  sprightly  way, 
'  What  if  it  were  no  dream,  no  other  than  the  very  figure  itself 
—mine  ?  " 

"  Were  it  indeed  so,  my  delirious  fancies  then,  would  be  noth- 


THE  mow  cousm.  -.0? 

ing  to  the  mad  visions  I  should  indulge  now,  on  finding  that  to 
be  no  dream,  but  a  substantial  beautiful  reality.  No  wild  thought* 
of  those  moments  could  equal  the  rapturous  waking  truth  which 
I  am  daring  to  picture  to  myself  at  this  present  one." 

"  And  what  may  be  the  pleasant  fact  which  your  wandering! 
in  sound  health  and  sanity,  and  in  broad  daylight,  are  pleased  to 
fashion  out  of  the  simple  one  of  your  cousin  Kate  choosing  to  come 
and  ascertain  for  herself  how  the  feycr  was  taking  effect  upon  the 
iron  constitution." 

"  Shall  I  tell  you,  in  so  many  words,  Kate,  what  that  'pleas 
ant  fact,'  as  you  call  it,  is  ?  " 

"  As  you  will,"  she  said.  "  I  have  often  told  you  I  had  nt 
curiosity.  In  my  faultiest  days,  I  was  without  that  defect." 

"  And  can  you  not  guess  ?  "  he  answered.  "  Can  yon  not  guesa , 
that  if  I  found  it  was  indeed  Kate  herself  who  came  to  my  sick 
room  to  learn  whether  the  iron  frame  kept  death  at  bay,  I  should 
conclude  that  she  felt  more  interest  in  that  stubborn  material  than 
she  had  ever  been  willing  to  acknowledge;  that  she  cared  for  it, 
that  she  secretly  prized  it,  that  she  tendered  it  no  leas  dearly  than, 
in  the  depths  of  its  seeming  cold,  hard,  stern  nature,  it  tender* 
her.  That  she  unconsciously  cherished  it,  loved  it,  as,  in  all  the 
strength,  and  fervour,  and  enduring  constancy  of  its  inoerntort 
core,  it  loves  her." 

As  he  concluded,  he  drew  her  to  his  heart;  where  hers  gath- 
ered stillness  from  agitation,  measureless  content  from  passionate 
emotion. 

At  length,  as  she  raised  her  eyes,  they  fell  upon  the  figure  ol 
her  uncle,  in  the  little  crayon  sketch. 

"He  would  have  joyed  to  behold  us  thus,"  she  said,  softly. 

"  It  is  my  happy  pride  to  believe  he  would,"  returned  Pcnnor. 

1I;>  likeness  was  my  chief  comfort  in  seeing  thai  picture  her*. 

Had  it  not  been  for  its  containing  his  portrait,!  should  have  been 

l.lc  to  resist  the  jealous  fancies  and  fcara  that  bt*et  BM  when 

cv.:r  I  looked  at  it  You  would  wonder  at  my  weakness,  my 

were  you  to  know  the  hundred  and  one  vague  dreads  my  heart 

,onjured  up  to  torment  me  with,  lest  yonr  lore  for  Italy,  TOBI 


508  THE   IRON    COUSIN. 

associations  with  its  past  scenes,  your  predilection,  your  regret, 
your — I  know  not  what — might  have  had  the  principal  share  in 
your  bringing  away  that  particular  sketch  from  your  old  home." 

"  While  we  are  making  confession  of  follies  and  fancies,"  she 
said,  "  suppose  I  tell  you  why  I  brought  that  sketch  of  all  others, 
from  dear  Heathcote.  Do  you  remember  the  morning  you  found 
me  out  in  my  den  ?  " 

"  Do  I  remember  it,  Kate  ?     You  ask  me  that  ?  " 

"  Well,  then,  partly  for  the  sake  of  my  dear  uncle's  likeness, 
partly  for  the  sake  of  one  who  that  morning  seemed  to  take  a 
strange  fancy  to  this  bit  of  drawing-paper,  I  brought  it  with  me. 
All  the  while  you  were  there,  in  the  den,  you — you  held  it  in 
your  hand." 

The  reply  to  this — not  spoken,  but  expressed  with  an  eloquence 
of  its  own — made  Kate  say,  in  a  tone  of  archness  that  scarcely 
veiled  its  tender  feeling :  "  Do  you  remember,  too,  that  moraine:, 
our  standing  together,  looking  at  this  sketch,  side  by  side  ?  So 
close,  that  I  found  a  tumult  in  my  heart  which  taught  me  to 
make  good  my  retreat  in  time,  lest  it  should,  by  some  mysterious 
means,  reach  your  knowledge,  and  betray  to  you  more  than  its 
own  mistress  well  understood  at  the  time.  How  comes  it,  that 
an  instinct  prompted  me  to  withdraw  then,  and  that  I  now  so 
recklessly  remain  ?  How  comes  it,  that  I  used  to  complain  of  the 
Iron  Cousin's  vice-grip  of  the  hand,  and  now  I  trust  myself  so 
contentedly  locked  within  the  more  formidable  one  of  his  arm  ?  " 

"  Do  you  know,  Kate,  whenever  you  call  me  by  that  title  in 
future,  I  intend  to  take  my  revenge  od  those  lips  for  the  many 
pangs  their  honied  stings  made  me  at  one  time  endure  from  its 
repetition,  with  sundry  fleers  appended,  which  made  me  wince, 
and  doubt  that  any  liking  could  lurk  beneath.  Mind,  I  tell  you 
this  openly  and  fairly,  that  you  may  know  the  penalty  you  incur, 
whenever  you  name  me  thus  again." 

"  But  what  shall  I  call  you  ?  " 

"  Call  me  Fermor — let  me  have  the  delicious  sound  of  my 
name  from  that  mouth.  I  dared  not  allow  myself  the  transport 
of  hearing  it,  a  short  time  since,  when  I  dreaded  my  own  courage 


THE    IEON   COUSIN.  0.' 

to  reaist  the  terribly  potent^entle  effect  it  bad  to  shake  my  heart 
from  its  vowed  faith  and  honour  to  what  I  believed  existed  between 
yourself  and  Cecil." 

"  Cecil ! "  was  the  only  word  for  which  Kate's  astonishment 
had  voice. 

"  Cecil— Cecil  Lascelles.  I  fancied  that  he  was  the  powerful 
incentive  to  the  self-reform  and  self-perfectioning  which  I  beheld. 
I  could  perceive  that  some  all-sufficing  cause, some  imperative  m«w 
tive,  existed  to  work  the  change  I  witnessed.  I  could  see  that 
some  softening  influence  had  sprung  up  in  that  heart,  to  teach  it 
its  best  wisdom,  its  truest  strength,  its  natural  greatness.  How 
could  I  doubt  that  this  influence  must  be  love  ?  And,  from  every 
thing  by  which  I  could  judge,  how  could  I  doubt  that  this  lore — 
which  the  Iron  Cousin  would  have  perished  to  gain — was  for  Ce- 
cil ?  All  that  was  left  for  me,  was  to  turn  the  force  and  hardness 
of  character  imputed  to  me,  into  a  strength  of  endurance  which 
should  enable  me  to  sustain  the  perpetual  struggle  between  uiy 
passion  and  my  sense  of  right.  Perhaps  even  your  belief  in  the 
iron  quality  of  my  nature  might  be  enhanced,  could  you  know  the 
trial  it*  fortitude  sustained,  in  beholding  you  constantly;  in  re- 
cognising  more  fully  on  each  occasion  the  genuine  beauty  of  your 
character,  developed  in  its  truth  of  nobleness  and  gentleness  by 
adversity  and  trial ;  in  perceiving  how  unerringly  I  had  always 
distinguished  its  real  charm  beneath  the  early  petulance  of  youth 
and  spoiling ;  in  feeling  this  charm  each  day  more  subtly  steal 
upon  my  heart,  undermine  its  courage,  vanquish  its  powers  of  re- 
M~t;mce,  and  subdue  it  wholly  to  one  single  and  over-nattering 
desire  of  possessing  this  matchless  piece  of  tender  womanhood  for 
my  own — my  love— my  wife.  Could  yon  hare  guessed  an  iota  of 
the  emotions  that  were  perpetually  warring  within  me,  and  assail- 
ing '  this  poor  citadel  of  man,'  yon  might  indeed  have  had  SOBM 
cause  to  call  me  the  Iron  Cousin." 

"  And  how  should  I  have  guessed  that  he  could  be  open  to  sach 
attacks  ?     I  thought  his  heart  made  of  sterner  stuff — invulnera- 
ble, uninvadable,  impregnable,  invincible;  above  all,  by  any  im- 
-;  wayward,  perverse,  ungracious  eowin  Kate  could 


510  THE    IRON    COUSIN. 

produce.  I  thought  he  knew  her  faults,  contemned  them,  and 
well-nigh  despised  and  disliked  herself  for  their  sake." 

"  He  loved  her  but  too  well  for  his  own  peace,  when  she  was  most 
perverse  and  ungracious — most  unlike  her  present  gentle,  womanly 
self,  my  Kate,"  he  replied.  "  But  how  could  he  help  adoringher, 
when  he  beheld  her  shine  forth  in  her  own  natural  grace  and  per- 
fection— self-redeemed,  self-perfected  ?  " 

"  If  it  indeed  be  so,  Fermor,"  she  said,  turning  her  eyes  full 
upon  him,  beaming  with  affection  and  confidence,  and  grateful 
emotion ;  "  if  it  indeed  be  that  I  am  reclaimed  from  my  own  for- 
mer unworthiness,  it  is,  as  you  have  said,  that  there  was  a  power- 
ful influence  at  work ;  the  influence  of " 

She  hesitated ;  with  a  crimson  cheek. 

"  I  said  it  was  the  influence  of  love.  You  will  not  deny  it, 
Kate  mine  ?  "  he  whispered. 

"  The  influence  of  love,"  she  repeated  softly,  yet  firmly.  "  Love 
as  strong  as  it  was  long  unconscious.  Love  for, — not  Cecil  Las- 
celles, — but  for  Fermor  Worthington.  Throughout  my  life,  ever 
since  the  moment  I  first  beheld  him,  that  life  has  been  swayed 
slowly  but  surely,  gradually  but  effectually,  to  its  best  happiness 
by  the  influence  of  the  Iron  Cousin." 

"  I  gave  you  fair  warning,  Kate.     Take  the  consequence  !  " 


And  here  this  story  fitly  ends  :  since  the  reader's  imagination 
will  hardly  have  failed  to  suggest  how  Miss  Alicia  White  consoled 
herself  for  Mr.  Worthington-of-Worthington-Court's  closing  ex- 
plicit speech,  by  lending  ear  to  the  lisped  "  pretty  speeches  "  of 
the  gallant  young  officer ;  and  by  suffering  them  to  win  her  con- 
sent that  she  would,  all  in  good  time,  exchange  her  White  of  Egg 
— hamship  for  the  style  and  title  (in  his  own  parlance),  of  "  Mith- 
eth  Henry  Thmythe." 

Or  how  Ben  Dimble  received  as  a  wife,  "  quiet  Kuth  Field," 
with  a  marriage-portion  from  the  "grum  brown  purse ;  "  and  how 
they  lived  in  the  pleasant  school-cottage  together, — Ruth  having 
been  appointed  head-monitress. 


THE   IRON   COCSW.  511 

Or  how  Miles  Oatland  swam  into  the  good  graces  of  Mr. 
Cbalkby,  on  the  tide  of  public  opinion;  and  how  pretty  Lucy  wai 
permitted  to  marry  the  man  of  her  heart,  as  "  a  young  fellow  con- 
sidered to  be  a  very  superior  person." 

Neither  will  the  reader's  discernment  have  been  at  a  loss  to 
comprehend  how  Cecil  Lascellcs  did  but  act  in  character  with  his 
constitutional  susceptibility  to  present  impressions,  when  he  allow- 
cd  his  memory  of  Kato  Ireton  to  become  merged  in  the  image  of 
the  fair  young  creature  who  chanced  to  bo  his  fellow-voyager 
during  the  passage  out.  The  constant  companionship  of  shipboard, 
the  familiarity  and  intimacy  it  promoted,  with  one  whoso  vivacity, 
beauty,  and  undisguised  partiality  for  his  society,  insensibly  drew 
him  towards  her,  combined  to  generate  an  attachment  which  con- 
soled him  for  the  hopelessness  of  that  he  had  lately  cherished.  Ho 
had  seen  how  irrevocably — although  unavowedly,  even  to  herself 
— Kate's  love  was  given  to  Fermor  Worthington ;  and  Cecil  learn* 
ed  to  rejoice  at  having  met  with  a  woman  whose  fresh,  ingenuous 
affections  were  his,  almost  before  he  had  made  an  attempt  to  win 
them. 

He  wrote  a  letter  to  Kate,  not  long  after  his  marriage,  tolling 
her  that  the  friendship  she  had  proffered  him  would,  he  knew,  take 
generous  delight  in  his  present  happiness ;  at  the  same  time  deli- 
cately expressing  a  trust  that  she  herself  might  yet  be  enabled  to 
send  him  like  intelligence  of  her  own. 

By  one  of  the  earliest  vessels  that  sailed  from  England,  he 
received  a  warm  reply,  joyfully  apprising  him  of  his  friend1!  mu- 
tual, full,  and  wedded  content,  signed—"  Kate  Wortb^on." 

'*  When  I  agreed  to  have  Fermor  for  a  husband,  I  expected 
him  to  be  ray  'lord  and  Iron  master,' as  a  matter  of  course,  Cecil," 
she  wrote,  in  one  part  of  her  letter, "  but  even  in  abjuring  mastery,  he 
contrives  to  have  his  own  way.  He  has  inrented  a  method  of 
making  me  dearly  remember  it,  if  ever  I  indulge  in  the  old 
tspithet ;  so  that  I  dare  not  now  for  my  life— my  lipa,  I 
hint  at  calling  him 

'THE  Inox 

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